BOOKS    WRITTEN    AND    ILLUSTRATED    BY 

HOWARD     PYLE 

PUBLISHED    BY  CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S   SONS 


THE    STORY    OF    THE    CHAMPIONS    OF    THE 
ROUND   TABLE. 

THE    STORY    OF    KING    ARTHUR    AND    HIS 
KNIGHTS. 

THE  MERRY  ADVENTURES  OF  ROBIN  HOOD, 
OF  GREAT  RENOWN  IN  NOTTINGHAMSHIRE. 

THE   GARDEN    BEHIND   THE    MOON.     A  REAL 
STORY  OF  THE  MOON  ANGEL. 

OTTO    OF   THE    SILVER   HAND. 


tag  Atflwr  of  Britain. 


KINGAKTHVR 

and  his 


Written 

HOVS7ARD  PYLE. 


NEW  YORK: 

&m&LES  SCR.TBNE&S 


Copyright,  1903, 
By  CHARLES  SCRIBNEFS  SONS, 

Published,  November,  1903 


GUI 


JUWWfl 


AFTER  several  years  of  contemplation  and  of  thought  upon  thi 
matter  herein  contained,  it  has  at  last  come  about,  by  the 
Grace  of  God,  that  I  have  been  able  to  write  this  work  with 
such  pleasure  of  spirit  that,  if  it  gives  to  you  but  a  part  of  the  joy 
that  it  hath  afforded  me,  I  shall  be  very  well  content  with  what  1 
have  done. 

For  when,  in  pursuing  this  history,  I  have  come  to  consider  the 
high  nobility  of  spirit  that  moved  these  excellent  men  to  act  as  they 
did,  I  have  felt  that  they  have  afforded  such  a  perfect  example  oj 
courage  and  humility  that  anyone  might  do  exceedingly  well  to  follow 
after  their  manner  of  behavior  in  such  measure  as  he  is  able  to  do. 

For  I  believe  that  King  Arthur  was  the  most  honorable,  gentle 
Knight  who  ever  lived  in  all  the  world.  And  those  who  were  his 
fellows  of  the  Round  Table— taking  him  as  their  looking-glass  of 
chivalry— made,  altogether,  such  a  company  of  noble  knights  that  it  ts 


385 


vi  FOREWORD 

hardly  to  be  supposed  that  their  like  will  ever  be  seen  again  in  this 
worlfl.  Wherefore  it  is  that  I  have  had  such  extraordinary  pleasure 
in  beholding  how  those  famous  knights  behaved  whenever  circumstances 
called  upon  them  to  perform  their  endeavor. 

So  in  the  year  of  grace  one  thousand  nine  hundred  and  two 
I  began  to  write  this  history  of  King  Arthur  and  his  Knights 
of  the  Round  Table  and,  if  I  am  able  so  to  do,  I  shall  endeavor,  with 
love  of  that  task,  to  finish  the  same  at  some  other  time  in  another  book 
and  to  the  satisfaction  of  whosoever  may  care  to  read  the  story  thereof. 


Contents 


The  Book  of  King  Arthur 
PART  I 

THE  WINNING  OF  KINGHOOD 

\ 

Chapter  First 

How  Sir  Kay  did  Combat  in  a  Great  Tournament  at  London  Town 
and  of  How  He  Brake  His  Sword.  Likewise,  How  Arthur  Found  a 
New  Sword  For  Him  9 


Chapter  Second 

How  Arthur  Twice  Performed  the  Miracle  of  the  Sword  Before  Sir 
Ector  and  of  How  His  Birthright  Was  Discovered  Unto  Him 


21 


viii  CONTENTS 


Chapter  Third 

How  Several  Kings  and  High  Dukes  Assayed  to  Draw  the  Sword 
Out  of  the  Anvil  and  How  They  Failed.  Likewise  How  Arthur  Made 
the  Assay  and  Succeeded  Therein  .  .  .  .  .  .  29 


PART  II 

THE  WINNING  OF  A  SWORD 
Chapter  First 

How  There  Came  a  Certain  Wounded  Knight  Unto  the  Court  of 
King  Arthur,  How  a  Young  Knight  of  the  King's  Court  Sought  To 
Avenge  Him  and  Failed  and  How  the  King  Thereupon  Took  That 
Assay  Upon  Himself  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  41 


Chapter  Second 

How  King  Arthur  Fought  With  the  Sable  Knight  and  How  He 

Was  Sorely    Wounded.    Likewise  How  Merlin  Brought  Him  Safe 

Away  From  the  Field  of  Battle        ••••••         5J 


Chapter  Third 

How  King  Arthur  Found  a  Noble  Sword  In  a  Very  Wonderful 
Manner.  And  How  He  Again  Fought  With  It  and  Won  That 
Battle  .  "  ."  .  .  .  .  .  .  -,  .  65 


CONTENTS  ix 

PART  III 

THE  WINNING  OF  A  QUEEN 
Chapter  First 

How  King  Arthur  Went  to  Tintagalon  with  Four  of  His  Court, 
and  How  He  Disguised  Himself  for  a  Certain  Purpose    .         .         79 


Chapter  Second 

How  King  Ryence   Came  to   Came  Hard  and  How  King  Arthur 
Fought  With  the  Duke  of  North  Umber  .         .         .         .         qi 


Chapter  Third 

How   King  Arthur  Encountered    Four  Knights  and   of   What 
Befell  Thereby 101 


Chapter  Fourth 

How  the  Four  Knights  Served  the  Lady  Guinevere 


Chapter  Fifth 

How  King  Arthur  Overcame  the  Enemies  of  King  Leodegrance,  and 
How  His  Royalty  Was  Proclaimed  .         .         .         .         •         • 


Chapter  Sixth 

How  King  Arthur   Was   Wedded  in  Royal  State  and  How  the 
Round  Table  Was  Established .  *39 


CONTENTS 


The  Book  of  Three  Worthies 


PART  I 

THE  STORY  OF  MERLIN 

Chapter   First 

How  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  Meditated  Evil  Against  King  Arthur 
and  How  She  Sent  a  Damsel  to  Beguile  the  Enchanter >  Merlin       i6j 


Chapter  Second 

How  Merlin  Journeyed  With  Vivien  Unto  the  Valley  of  Joyousness 
and  How  He  Builded  for  Her  a  Castle  at  That  Place.  Also,  How 
He  Taught  Her  the  Wisdom  of  Magic  and  of  How  She  Compassed 
His  Downfall  Thereby  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 


Chapter  Third 

How  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  Returned  to  Camelot  and  to  the  Court 
With  Intent  to  Do  III  to  King  Arthur.  Also  How  King  Arthur  and 
Others  Went  a-Hunting  and  of  What  Befell  Thereby  .  .  181 


Chapter  Fourth 

What  Befell  Sir  Accalon,  and  How  King  Arthur  Fought  an  Af- 
fair-at- Arms  With  Swords,  and  How  He  Came  Nigh  to  Losing  His 
Life  Thereby  .  .  .  .  .  ,  .  . 


CONTENTS  xj 

PART  II 

THE  STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 
Chapter  First 

How  Queen  Guinevere   Went  a-Maying  and  of  How  Sir  Pellias 
Took  Upon  Him  a  Quest  in  Her  Behalf          .... 


Chapter  Second 

How  Sir  Pellias  Overcame  a  Red  Knight,  Hight  Sir  Adresack, 
and  of  How  He  Liberated  XXII  Captives  From  That  Knights 
Castle 215 


Chapter  Third 

How  Sir  Pellias  Did  Battle  With  Sir  Engamore,  Otherwise 
the  Knight  of  the  Green  Sleeves,  and  of  What  Befell  the  Lady 
Ettard 227 


Chapter  Fourth 

How  Queen  Guinevere  Quarrelled  With  Sir  Gawaine,  and  How 
Sir  Gawaine  Left  the  Court  of  King  Arthur  For  a  While   .       241 

Chapter  Fifth 

How  Sir  Gawaine  Met  Sir  Pellias  and  How   He  Promised  to 
Aid  Him  With  the  Lady  Ettard    ...... 


Chapter  Sixth 

How  the  Lady  of  the  Lake  Took  Back  Her  Necklace  From  Sir 
Pellias  267 


xii  CONTENTS 

PART  III 

THE  STORY  OF  SIR  GAWAINE 

Chapter   First 

How  a  White  Hart  Appeared  Before  King  Arthur,  and  How 
Sir  Gawaine  and  Gaheris,  His  Brother \  Went  in  Pursuit  Thereof, 
and  of  What  Befell  Them  in  That  Quest  .  V  •  *  281 


Chapter   Second 

How  King  Arthur  Became  Lost  in  the  Forest,  and  How  He 
Fell  Into  a  Very  Singular  Adventure  in  a  Castle  Unto  Which  He 
Came  ........... 


Chapter  Third 

How  King  Arthur  Overcame  the  Knight- Enchanter,  and  How  Sir 
Gawaine  Manifested  the  High  Nobility  of  His  Knighthood      .      305 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


Uther-Pendragon 

Head  Piece — Table  of  Contents 
Tail  Piece — Table  of  Contents 
Head  Piece — List  of  Illustrations 
Tail  Piece — List  of  Illustrations 
Head  Piece — Prologue 
Tail  Piece — Prologue 


Frontispiece 


Vll 


Xll 


Xtll 


XVI 


xiv  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Sir  Kay  breaketh  his  sword  at  ye  Tournament         '*         .         9  8 

Head  Piece — Parti          .         . "       ,         -.         y        .         .         .  p 

Sir  Kay  showeth  the  mystic  Sword  unto  Sir  Ector  20 

How  Arthur  drew  forth  ye  Sword  .         .         .         .         .         .  28 

In  the  Valley  of  Delight 40 

Head  Piece — Part  II 41 

The  Battle  with  the  Sable  Knight 52 

Excalibur  the  Sword 64 

Tail  Piece — Part  II .  f6 

The  Lady  Guinevere         ........  7^ 

Head  Piece — Part  III      . 79 

Two  Knights  do  battle  before  Cameliard  .....  po 

The  White  Champion  meets  two  Knights  at  the  Mill        .         .  100 

Four  Knights  serve  the  Gardener  Lad     .....  112 

The  Gardener  Lad  takes  off  his  Cap         .....  124 

King  Arthur  meets  the  Lady  Guinevere  .00..  138 

Tail  Piece— Part  HI        .         .        '. 146 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 
Ornamented  Title — The  Book  of  Three  Worthies 


xv 

PAGE 


The  Lady  of  ye  Lake /jO 

Head  Piece — Foreword /j/ 

The  Enchanter  Merlin 154 

Head  Piece — Prologue 755 

Tail  Piece — Prologue         . 160 

The  Enchantress  Vivien .         .  162 

Head  Piece — The  Story  of  Merlin i6j 

Vivien  bewitches  Merlin 172 

Queen  Morgana  le  Fay     . 180 

Queen  Morgana  loses  Excalibur  his  sheath        .         .         .         .  190 

Tail  Piece— The  Story  of  Merlin 202 

Sir  Pellias,  the  Gentle  Knight 204 

Head  Piece — The  Story  of  Sir  Pellias 205 

Sir  Pellias  encounters  the  Sorrowful  Lady  in  Arroy         .         .  214 

Parcenet  covers  Sir  Pellias  with  a  cloak    .                  .  226 

The  Lady  of  the  Lake  sits  by  the  Fountain  in  Arroy         .         .  240 


xvi  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 


Sir  Gawaine  sups  with  ye  Lady  Ettard   .         .         .         .         .  254 

The  Lady  of  the  Lake  finds  Sir  Pellias  wounded      .         .         .  266 

Sir  Gawaine  the  Son  of  Lot,  King  of  Orkney  .        .,        y        •  280 

Head  Piece — The  Story  of  Sir  Gawaine  .....  281 
King  Arthur  findeth  ye  old  woman  in  ye  hut    .         .         .         . 
Sir  Gawaine  finds  the  beautiful  Lady       . 

Tail  Piece — The  Stcry  of  Sir  Gawaine 312 


The 

BOOK 

of 


KING 
ARTHUR 


fijer-Pen&ragon 


Prologue. 


IN  ancient  days  there  lived  a  very  noble  King,  named  Uther-Pendra- 
gon, and  he  became  Overlord  of  all  of  Britain.  This  King  was 
very  greatly  aided  unto  the  achievement  of  the  Pendragonship  of 
the  realm  by  the  help  of  two  men,  who  rendered  him  great  assistance  in 
all  that  he  did.  The  one  ot  these  men  was  a  certain  very  powerful  en- 
chanter and  sometime  prophet  known  to  men  as  Merlin  the  Wise;  and  he 
gave  very  good  counsel  unto  Uther-Pendragon.  The  other  man  was  an 
excellent  noble  and  renowned  knight,  hight  Ulfius  (who  was  thought  by 
many  to  be  the  greatest  leader  in  war  of  any  man  then  alive) ;  and  he 
gave  Uther-Pendragon  aid  and  advice  in  battle.  So,  with  the  help  of 
Merlin  and  Sir  Ulfius,  Uther-Pendragon  was  able  to  overcome  all  of  his 
enemies  and  to  become  King  of  the  entire  realm. 

Atter  Uther-Pendragon  had  ruled  his  kingdom  for  a  number  of  years 
he  took  to  wife  a  certain  beautiful  and  gentle  lady,  hight  Igraine.     This 
noble  dame  was  the  widow  of  Geriois,  the  Duke  of  Tintegal ;    Uther  p^^ra 
by  which   prince  she   had  two  daughters — one  of  whom  was   g0n  taketh   to 
named  Margaise  and  the  other  Morgana  le  Fay.     And  Mor-    **££  Lady 
gana   le  Fay  was  a  famous  sorceress.     These  daughters  the 
Queen  brought  with  her  to  the  Court  of  Uther-Pendragon  after  she  had 
married    that   puissant  King,  and   there    Margaise  was  wedded  to  King 
Urien  of  Gore,  and  Morgana  le  Fay  was  wedded  to  King  Lot  of  Orkney. 
Now  after  awhile  Uther-Pendragon  and  Queen  Igraine  had  a  son  born 


2  PROLOGUE 

unto  them,  and  he  was  very  beautiful  and  of  great  size  and  strength 
of  bone.  And  whilst  the  child  still  lay  wrapped  in  his  swaddling  clothes 
and  lying  in  a  cradle  of  gold  and  ultramarine,  Merlin  came  to  Uther- 
Pendragon  with  a  spirit  of  prophecy  strong  upon  him  (for  such  was 
often  the  case  with  him),  and,  speaking  in  that  spirit  of  prophecy,  he  said, 
"  Lord,  it  is  given  unto  me  to  foresee  that  thou  shalt  shortly  fall  sick  of  a 
fever  and  that  thou  shalt  maybe  die  of  a  violent  sweat  that  will  follow 
thereon.  Now,  should  such  a  dolorous  thing  befall  us  all,  this  young 
child  (who  is,  certes,  the  hope  of  all  this  realm)  will  be  in 
Cbirthrand8 per-  very  great  danger  of  his  life  ;  for  many  enemies  will  assuredly 
Us  of  the  young  rjse  Up  with  design  to  seize  upon  him  for  the  sake  of  his  inher- 
itance, and  either  he  will  be  slain  or  else  he  will  be  held  in 
captivity  from  which  he  shall  hardly  hope  to  escape.  Wherefore,  I  do 
beseech  thee,  Lord,  that  thou  wilt  permit  Sir  Ulfius  and  myself  to  pres- 
ently convey  the  child  away  unto  some  place  of  safe  refuge,  where  he 
may  be  hidden  in  secret  until  he  groweth  to  manhood  and  is  able  to  guard 
himself  from  such  dangers  as  may  threaten  him." 

When  Merlin  had  made  an  end  of  speaking  thus,  Uther-Pendragon 
made  reply  with  a  very  steadfast  countenance  in  this  wise :  "  Merlin,  so 
far  as  my  death  is  concerned — when  my  time  cometh  to  die  I  believe  God 
will  give  me  grace  to  meet  my  end  with  entire  cheerfulness ;  for,  certes, 
my  lot  is  in  that  wise  no  different  from  that  of  any  other  man  who  hath 
been  born  of  woman.  But  touching  the  matter  of  this  young  child,  if  thy 
prophecy  be  true,  then  his  danger  is  very  great,  and  it  would  be  well 
that  he  should  be  conveyed  hence  to  some  place  of  safe  harborage  as  thou 
dost  advise.  Wherefore,  I  pray  thee  to  perform  thy  will  in  this  affair, 
bearing  in  thy  heart  the  consideration  that  the  child  is  the  most  precious 
inheritance  which  I  shall  leave  unto  this  land." 

All   this,   as   was  said,    Uther-Pendragon   spake   with   great   calmness 

and  equanimity  of  spirit.     And  Merlin  did  as  he  had  advised,  and  he  and 

Sir  Ulfius  conveyed  the  child  away  by  night,  and  no  one  but  they  wist 

whither  the  babe    had  been  taken.     And   shortly  afterward 

*dicth according    Uther-Pendragon  was  seized  with  the  sickness  as  Merlin  had 

to  the  prophecy   foretold,  and  he  died  exactly  as  Merlin  had  feared  that  he 

would  die ;  wherefore  it  was  very  well  that  the  child  had  been 

taken  to  a  place  of  safety. 

And  after  Uther-Pendragon  had  departed  from  this  life,  it  was  like- 
wise as  Merlin  had  feared,  for  all  the  realm  fell  into  great  disorder.  For 
each  lesser  king  contended  against  his  fellow  for  overlordship,  and  wicked 
knights  and  barons  harried  the  highways  as  they  listed  and  there  levied 


PROLOGUE 

toll  with  great  cruelty  upon  helpless  wayfarers.  For  some  such  travellers 
they  took  prisoners  and  held  for  ransom,  whiles  others  they  slew  because 
they  had  no  ransom  to  pay.  So  it  was  a  very  common  sight  to  see  a  dead 
man  lying  by  the  roadside,  if  you  should  venture  to  make  a  journey  upon 
some  business  or  other.  Thus  it  befell  that,  after  awhile,  all  that  dolorous 
land  groaned  with  the  trouble  that  lay  upon  it. 

Thus  there  passed  nearly  eighteen  years  in  such  great  affliction,  and 
then  one  day  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  summoned  Merlin  to  him  and 
bespake  him  in  this  wise :  "  Merlin,  men  say  that  thou  art  the  wisest  man 
in  all  the  world.  Canst  thou  not  find  some  means  to  heal  the  The  Archbish- 
distractions  of  this  woeful  realm  ?  Bend  thou  thy  wisdom  to  jjLJ^  Can.ter~ 
this  matter  and  choose  thou  a  king  who  shall  be  a  fit  overlord  with  Merlin. 
for  us,  so  that  we  may  enjoy  happiness  of  life  once  more  as  we  did  in 
the  days  of  Uther-Pendragon." 

Then  Merlin  lifted  up  his  countenance  upon  the  Archbishop,  and  spake 
in  this  wise:  "My  lord,  the  spirit  of  prophecy  that  lieth  upon  me  some- 
times moveth  me  now  to  say  that  I  do  perceive  that  this  country  is  soon 
to  have  a  king  who  shall  be  wiser  and  greater  and  more  worthy  of  praise 
than  was  even  Uther-Pendragon.  And  he  shall  bring  order  and  peace 
where  is  now  disorder  and  war.  Moreover,  I  may  tell  you  that  this  King 
shall  be  of  Uther-Pendragon's  own  full  blood-royal." 

To  this  the  Archbishop  said:  "  What  thou  tellest  me,  Merlin,  is  a  won- 
derfully strange  thing.  But  in  this  spirit  of  prophecy  canst  thou  not  fore- 
tell when  this  King  is  to  come  ?  And  canst  thou  tell  how  we  shall  know 
him  when  he  appeareth  amongst  us?  For  many  lesser  kings  there  are 
who  would  fain  be  overlord  of  this  land,  and  many  such  there  are  who 
deem  themselves  fit  to  rule  over  all  the  others.  How  then  shall  we  know 
the  real  King  from  those  who  may  proclaim  themselves  to  be  the  rightful 
king?" 

"  My  lord  Archbishop,"  quoth  Merlin,  "  if  I  have  thy  leave  for  to  exert 
my  magic  I  shall  set  an  adventure  which,  if  any  man  achieve  it,  all  the 
world  shall  straightway  know  that  he  is  the  rightful  King  and  overlord  of 
this  realm."  And  to  this  the  Archbishop  said,  "  Merlin,  I  bid  thee  do 
whatsoever  may  seem  to  thee  to  be  right  in  this  affair."  And  Merlin  said, 
"  I  will  do  so." 

So  Merlin    caused  by  magic   that  a  huge  marble   stone,  four  square, 
should  suddenly  appear  in  an  open  place  before  the  cathedral    MgrRn  prgm 
door.     And  upon  this  block  of  marble  he  caused  it  to  be  that  £•"***? 
there   should  stand  an  anvil   and    into   the  anvil  he   caused 
it  that  there  should  be  thrust  a  great  naked  sword  midway  deep  of  the  • 


4  PROLOGUE 

blade.  And  this  sword  was  the  most  wonderful  that  any  man  had  ever 
seen,  for  the  blade  was  of  blue  steel  and  extraordinarily  bright  and  glis- 
tering. And  the  hilt  was  of  gold,  chased  and  carved  with  marvellous  cun- 
ning, and  inlaid  with  a  great  number  of  precious  stones,  so  that  it  shone 
with  wonderful  brightness  in  the  sunlight.  And  about  the  sword  were 
written  these  words  in  letters  of  gold  :  — 


{Juliet!)  eOut  tin*  ^toorU  from  the  Slntoil 
game  is  Htgi)ttoige  l\tng>33orn  of  &nglantt* 

So  a  great  many  people  came  and  gazed  upon  that  sword  and  marvelled 
at  it  exceedingly,  for  its  like  had  never  before  been  beheld  upon  the  earth. 

Then,  when  Merlin  had  accomplished  this  miracle,  he  bade  the  Arch- 
bishop to  call  together  all  the  chief  people  of  that  land  upon  Christmas- 
tide  ;  and  he  bade  the  Archbishop  to  command  that  every  man  should 
make  assay  to  draw  out  the  sword,  for  that  he  who  should  succeed  in  draw- 
ing it  forth  out  of  the  anvil  should  be  rightwise  King  of  Britain. 

So  the  Archbishop  did  according  as  Merlin  said  ;  and  this  was  the  mar- 
vel of  the  marble  stone  and  the  anvil,  of  which  same  anyone  may  easily 
read  for  himself  in  that  book  written  a  very  long  while  ago  by  Robert  de 
Boron,  which  is  called  Le  Roman  de  Merlin. 

Now  when  the  mandate  of  the  Lord  Archbishop  went  forth,  summoning 
all  the  chief  people  of  the  land  to  the  assay  of  that  miracle  (for,  indeed,  it 
was  a  miracle  to  draw  forth  a  sword-blade  out  of  an  anvil  of  solid  iron),  all 
the  realm  became  immediately  cast  into  a  great  ferment,  so  that  each  man 
asked  his  fellow,  "  Who  shall  draw  forth  that  sword,  and  who  shall  be  our 
King?"  Some  thought  it  would  be  King  Lot  and  others  thought  it  would 
be  King  Urien  of  Gore  (these  being  the  sons-in-law  unto  Uther-Pendra- 
gon)  ;  some  thought  that  it  would  be  King  Leodegrance  of  Camiliard, 
and  others  that  it  would  be  King  Ryence  of  North  Wales  ;  some  thought 
it  would  be  this  king  and  others  that  it  would  be  that  king  ;  for  all  the 
world  was  divided  into  different  parties  who  thought  according  to  their 
liking. 

Then,  as  Christmastide  drew  nigh,  it  presently  appeared  as  though  the 
entire  world  was  wending  its  way  to  London  Town,  for  the  highways  and 
the  by-ways  became  filled  with  wayfarers  —  kings  and  lords  and  knights 
and  ladies  and  esquires  and  pages  and  men-at-arms  —  all  betaking  their 
way  whither  the  assay  was  to  be  made  of  that  adventure  of  the  sword  and 
the  anvil.  Every  inn  and  castle  was  filled  so  full  of  travellers  that  it  was 
a  marvel  how  so  many  folk  could  be  contained  within  their  compass,  and 


PROLOGUE  5 

everywhere'  were  tents  and  pavilions  pitched  along  the  wayside  for  the 
accommodation  of  those  who  could  not  find  shelter  within  doors. 

But  when  the  Archbishop  beheld  the  multitudes  that  were  assembling, 
he  said  to  Merlin,  "  Indeed,  Merlin,  it  would  be  a  very  singular  thing  if 
among  all  these  great  kings  and  noble,  honorable  lords  we  should  not  find 
some  one  worthy  of  being  the  King  of  this  realm." 

Unto  which  the  Merlin  smiled  and  said,  "  Marvel  not,  my  lord,  if  among 
all  those  who  appear  to  be  so  extraordinarily  worthy  there  shall  not  be 
found  one  who  is  worthy ;  and  marvel  not  if,  among  all  those  who  are 
unknown,  there  shall  arise  one  who  shall  approve  himself  to  be  entirely 
worthy." 

And  the  Archbishop  pondered  Merlin's  words,  and  so  beginneth  this 
story. 


PAX-CVM-JVSTIC1/E 


,' 


PART  I 
The  Winning  of  Kinghood 


TJERE  beginneth  the  story  of  the  sword,   the  anvil,  and  the  marble  stone, 
and  of  how  that  sword  was  first  achieved  by  an  unknown  youth,  until 
then  of  no  renown,  whether  in  arms  or  of  estate. 

So  hearken  unto  that  which  I  have  hereinafter  written. 


tt  Kay  bmJktl)  fct*  *toot  6, 
at    Touniametit* 


Chapter  First. 


How  Sir  Kay  did  Combat  in  a  Great  Tournament  at  London  Town 
and  of  How  He  Brake  His  Sword.  Likewise,  How  Arthur 
Found  a  New  Sword  For  Him. 

IT  happened  that  among  those  worthies  who  were  summoned  unto 
London  Town  by  the  mandate  of  the  Archbishop  as  above  recounted, 
there  was  a  certain  knight,  very  honorable  and  of  high  estate,  by 
name  Sir  Ector  of  Bonmaison — surnamed  the  Trustworthy  Knight,  because 
of  the  fidelity  with  which  he  kept  the  counsel  of  those  who  confided  in 
him,  and  because  he  always  performed  unto  all  men,  whether  of  high  or  low 
degree,  that  which  he  promised  to  undertake,  without  defalcation  as  to  the 
same.  So  this  noble  and  excellent  knight  was  held  in  great  regard  by  all  those 
who  knew  him;  for  not  only  was  he  thus  honorable  in  conduct  but  he  was, 
besides,  of  very  high  estate,  being  possessed  of  seven  castles  Qj  Sir  Ector^ 
in  Wales  and  in  the  adjoining  country  north  thereof,  and  like-  the  trustwor- 
wise  of  certain  fruitful  tracts  of  land  with  villages  appertain-  /  y 
ing  thereunto,  and  also  of  sundry  forests  of  great  extent,  both  in  the  north 
country  and  the  west.  This  very  noble  knight  had  two  sons  ;  the  elder  of 
these  was  Sir  Kay,  a  young  knight  of  great  valor  and  promise,  and  already 
well  renowned  in  the  Courts  of  Chivalry  because  of  several  very  honorable 
deeds  of  worthy  achievement  in  arms  which  he  had  performed ;  the  other 


io  THE    WINNING    OF  KING  HOOD 

was  a  young  lad  of  eighteen  years  of  age,  by  name  Arthur,  who  at  that 
time  was  serving  with  good  repute  as  Sir  Kay's  esquire-at-arms. 

Now  when  Sir  Ector  of  Bonmaison  received  by  messenger  the  mandate 
of  the  Archbishop,  he  immediately  summoned  these  two  sons  unto  him 
and  bade  them  to  prepare  straightway  for  to  go  with  him  to  London 
Town,  and  they  did  so.  And  in  the  same  manner  he  bade  a  great  number 
of  retainers  and  esquires  and  pages  for  to  make  them  ready,  and  they 
likewise  did  so.  Thus,  with  a  very  considerable  array  at  arms  and  with 
great  show  of  circumstance,  Sir  Ector  of  Bonmaison  betook  his  way  unto 
London  Town  in  obedience  to  the  commands  of  the  Archbishop. 

So,  when  he  had  come  thither  he  took  up  his  inn  in  a  certain  field  where 
many  other  noble  knights  and  puissant  lords  had  already  established  them- 
selves, and  there  he  set  up  a  very  fair  pavilion  of  green  silk,  and  erected 
his  banner  emblazoned  with  the  device  of  his  house  ;  to  wit,  a  gryphon, 
black,  upon  a  field  of  green. 

And  upon  this  field  were  a  great  multitude  of  other  pavilions  of  many 
different  colors,  and  over  above  each  pavilion  was  the  pennant  and  the 
banner  of  that  puissant  lord  to  whom  the  pavilion  belonged.  Wherefore,, 
because  of  the  multitude  of  these  pennants  and  banners  the  sky  was  at 
places  well-nigh  hidden  with  the  gaudy  colors  of  the  fluttering  flags. 

Among  the  great  lords  who  had  come  thither  in  pursuance  to  the 
Archbishop's  summons  were  many  very  famous  kings  and  queens  and 
noblemen  of  high  degree.  For  there  was  King  Lot  of  Orkney,  who  had 
taken  to  wife  a  step-daughter  of  Uther-Pendragon,  and  there  was  King 
Uriensof  Gore,  who  had  taken  to  wife  another  step-daughter  of  that  great 
king,  and  there  was  King  Ban,  and  King  Bors,  and  King  Ryance,  and 
King  Leodegrance  and  many  others  of  like  degree,  for  there  were  no  less 
than  twelve  kings  and  seven  dukes,  so  that,  what  with  their  court  of  lords 
and  ladies  and  esquires  and  pages  in  attendance,  the  town  of  London  had 
hardly  ever  seen  the  like  before  that  day. 

Now  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  having  in  mind  the  extraordinary 
state  of  the  occasion  that  had  brought  so  many  kings  and  dukes  and  high 
lords  unto  that  adventure  of  the  sword  and  the  anvil,  had  commanded  that 
there  should  be  a  very  stately  and  noble  tournament  proclaimed.  Like 
wise  he  commanded  that  this  contest  at  arms  should  be  held  in  a  certain 
The  Archbish  ^e^  "^  to  the  great  cathedral,  three  days  before  that  assay 
op  declares  a  should  be  made  of  the  sword  and  the  anvil  (which  same  was 
tournament.  to  be  unc]ertaken,  as  aforesaid,  upon  Christmas  day).  To 
this  tournament  were  bidden  all  knights  who  were  of  sufficient  birth, 
condition,  and  quality  for  to  fit  them  to  take  part  therein.  Accordingly, 


KAY  ENTERS   THE  LISTS 


ii 


very  many  exalted  knights  made  application  for  admission,  and  that  in 
such  numbers  that  three  heralds  were  kept  very  busy  looking  into  their 
pretensions  unto  the  right  of  battle.  For  these  heralds  examined  the  es- 
cutcheons and  the  rolls  of  lineage  of  all  applicants  with  great  care  and  cir- 
cumspection. 

Now  when  Sir  Kay  received  news  of  this  tournament  he  went  to  where 
his  father  was,  and  when  he  stood  before  his  face  he  spake  in  this  wise  > 
"  Sire,  being  thy  son  and  of  such  very  high  condition  both  as 
to  birth  and  estate  as  I  have  inherited  from  thee,  I  find  that  I 


have  an  extraordinary   desire   to   imperil   my   body   in   this    attend  the 
tourney.     Accordingly,  if  so  be  I  may  approve  my  quality  as 
to   knighthood   before  this  college  of  heralds,  it  will  maybe   be   to   thy 
great   honor  and  credit,  and  to  the  honor  and  credit   of  our  house  if  I 
should  undertake  this  adventure.      Wherefore  I  do  crave  thy  leave  to  do 
as  I  have  a  mind." 

Unto  these  Sir  Ector  made  reply  :  "  My  son,  thou  hast  my  leave  for  to 
enter  this  honorable  contest,  and  I  do  hope  that  God  will  give  thee  a 
great  deal  of  strength,  and  likewise  such  grace  of  spirit  that  thou  mayst 
achieve  honor  to  thyself  and  credit  to  us  who  are  of  thy  blood." 

So  Sir  Kay  departed  with  very  great  joy  and  immediately  went  to  that 
congress  of  heralds  and  submitted  his  pretensions  unto  them.  And,  after 
they  had  duly  examined  into  his  claims  to  knighthood,  they  entered  his 
name  as  a  knight-contestant  according  to  his  desire  ;  and  at  this  Sir  Kay 
was  filled  with  great  content  and  joy  of  heart. 

So,  when  his  name  had  been  enrolled  upon  the  list  of  combatants,  Sir 
Kay  chose  his  young  brother  Arthur  for  to  be  his  esquire-at-arms  and  to 
carry  his  spear  and  pennant  before  him  into  the  field  of  battle,  and  Arthur 
was  also  made  exceedingly  glad  because  of  the  honor  that  had  befallen  him 
and  his  brother. 

Now,  the  day  having  arrived  when  this  tourney  was  to  be  held,  a  very 
huge  concourse  of  people  gathered  together  to  witness  that  noble  and 
courtly  assault  at  arms.  For  at  that  time  London  was,  as  aforesaid,  extraor- 
dinarily full  of  nobility  and  knighthood,  wherefore  it  was  reckoned  that 
not  less  than  twenty  thousand  lords  and  ladies  (besides  those  twelve  kings 
and  their  courts  and  seven  dukes  and  their  courts)  were  assembled  in  the 
lists  circumadjacent  to  the  field  of  battle  for  to  witness  the  performance 
of  those  chosen  knights.  And  those  noble  people  sat  so  close  together, 
and  so  filled  the  seats  and  benches  assigned  to  them,  that  it  appeared  as 
though  an  entirely  solid  wall  of  human  souls  surrounded  that  meadow 
where  the  battle  was  to  be  fought.  And,  indeed,  any  knight  might  well 


12  THE    WINNING    OF  KINGHOOD 

be  moved  to  do  his  uttermost  upon  such  a  great  occasion  with  the  eyes  of 
so  many  beautiful  dames  and  noble  lords  gazing  upon  his  performances. 
Wherefore  the  hearts  of  all  the  knights  attendant  were  greatly  expanded 
with  emulation  to  overturn  their  enemies  into  the  dust. 

In  the  centre  of  this  wonderful  court  of  lords  and  ladies  there  was 
erected  the  stall  and  the  throne  of  the  lord  Archbishop  himself.  Above 
the  throne  was  a  canopy  of  purple  cloth  emblazoned  with  silver  lilies,  and 
the  throne  itself  was  hung  all  about  with  purple  cloth  of  velvet,  embroid- 
ered, alternately,  with  the  figure  of  St.  George  in  gold,  and  with  silver 
crosses  of  St.  George  surrounded  by  golden  halos.  Here  the  lord  Arch- 
bishop himself  sat  in  great  estate  and  pomp,  being  surrounded  by  a  very 
exalted  court  of  clerks  of  high  degree  and  also  of  knights  of  honorable 
estate,  so  that  all  that  centre  of  the  field  glistered  with  the  splendor  of 
gold  and  silver  embroidery,  and  was  made  beautiful  by  various  colors  of 
rich  apparel  and  bright  with  fine  armor  of  excellent  workmanship.  And» 
indeed,  such  was  the  stateliness  of  all  these  circumstances  that  very  few 
who  were  there  had  ever  seen  so  noble  a  preparation  for  battle  as  that 
which  they  then  beheld. 

Now,  when  all  that  great  assembly  were  in  their  places  and  everything 
had  been  prepared  in  due  wise,  an  herald  came  and  stood  forth  before  the 
enstalled  throne  of  the  Archbishop  and  blew  a  very  strong,  loud  blast 
upon  a  trumpet.  At  that  signal  the  turnpikes  of  the  lists  were  imme- 
diately opened  and  two  parties  of  knights-contestant  entered  therein — the 
one  party  at  the  northern  extremity  of  the  meadow  of  battle  and  the 
other  party  at  the  southern  extremity  thereof.  Then  immediately  all  that 
lone  field  was  a-glitter  with  the  bright-shining  splendor  of  the  sunlight 
upon  polished  armor  and  accoutrements.  So  these  two  parties  took  up 
their  station,  each  at  such  a  place  as  had  been  assigned  unto  them — the 
one  to  the  north  and  the  other  to  the  south. 

Now  the  party  with  which  Sir  Kay  had  cast  his  lot  was  at  the  north  of 
the  field,  and  that  company  was  fourscore  and  thirteen  in  number;  and 
Sir  Kay  takes  *ne  °^ner  party  stood  at  the  south  end  of  the  field,  and  that 
hand  in  the  company  was  fourscore  and  sixteen  in  number.  But  though 
the  party  with  whom  Sir  Kay  had  attached  himself  numbered 
less  by  three  than  the  other  party,  yet  was  it  the  stronger  by  some  degree 
because  that  there  were  a  number  of  knights  of  great  strength  and  renown 
in  that  company.  Indeed  it  may  be  here  mentioned  that  two  of  those 
knights  afterward  became  companions  in  very  good  credit  of  the  round 
table — to  wit:  Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte,  and  Sir  Bedevere — which  latter  was 
the  last  who  saw  King  Arthur  alive  upon  this  earth. 


KAY  ACHIEVES   CREDIT  I3 

So,  when  all  was  prepared  according  to  the  ordination  of  the  tourna- 
ment, and  when  those  knights-contestant  had  made  themselves  ready  in  all 
ways  that  were  necessary,  and  when  they  aad  dressed  their  spears  and 
their  shields  in  such  a  manner  as  befitted  knights  about  to  enter  serious 
battle,  the  herald  set  his  trumpet  to  his  lips  a  second  time  and  blew  upon  it 
with  might  and  main.  Then,  having  sounded  this  blast,  he  waited  for 
a  while  and  then  he  blew  upon  the  trumpet  again. 

And,  upon  that  blast,  each  of  those  parties  of  knights  quitted  its  station 
and  rushed  forth  in  great  tumult  against  the  other  party,  and  that  with 
such  noise  and  fury  that  the  whole  earth  groaned  beneath  the  feet  of  the 
war-horses,  and  trembled  and  shook  as  with  an  earthquake. 

So  those  two  companies  met,  the  one  against  the  other,  in  the  midst  of 
the  field,  and  the  roar  of  breaking  lances  was  so  terrible  that  those  who 
heard  it  were  astonished  and  appalled  at  the  sound.  For  several  fair 
dames  swooned  away  with  terror  of  the  noise,  and  others  shrieked  aloud ; 
for  not  only  was  there  that  great  uproar,  but  the  air  was  altogether  filled 
with  the  splinters  of  ash  wood  that  flew  about. 

In  that  famous  assault  threescore  and  ten  very  noble  and  honorable 
knights  were  overthrown,  many  of  them  being  trampled  beneath  the  hoofs 
of  the  horses ;  wherefore,  when  the  two  companies  withdrew  in  retreat 
each  to  his  station  the  ground  was  beheld  to  be  covered  all  over  with 
broken  fragments  of  lances  and  with  cantels  of  armor,  and  many  knights 
were  seen  to  be  wofully  lying  in  the  midst  of  all  that  wreck.  And  some 
of  these  champions  strove  to  arise  and  could  not,  while  others  lay  alto- 
gether quiet  as  though  in  death.  To  these  ran  divers  esquires  and  pages 
in  great  numbers,  and  lifted  up  the  fallen  men  and  bare  them  away  to 
places  of  safe  harborage.  And  likewise  attendants  ran  and  gathered  up 
the  cantels  of  armor  and  the  broken  spears,  and  bare  them  away  to  the 
barriers,  so  that,  by  and  by,  the  field  was  altogether  cleared  once  more. 

Then  all  those  who  gazed  down  upon  that  meadow  gave  loud  acclaim 
with  great  joyousness  of  heart,  for  such  a  noble  and  glorious  contest  at 
arms  in  friendly  assay  had  hardly  ever  been  beheld  in  all  that  realm 
before. 

Now  turn  we  unto  Sir  Kay;  for  in  this  assault  he  had  conducted  himself 
with  such  credit  that  no  knight  who  was  there  had  done  better  than  he, 
and  maybe  no  one  had  done  so  well  as  he.  For,  though  two  sir  Ka 
opponents  at  once  had  directed  their  spears  against  him,  yet 
he  had  successfully  resisted  their  assault.  And  one  of  those 
two  he  smote  so  violently  in  the  midst  of  his  defences  that  he  had 
lifted  that  assailant  entirely  over  the  crupper  of  the  horse  which  he 


14  THE    WINNING    OF  KINGHOOD 

rode,  and  had  flung  him  down  to  the  distance  of  half  a  spear's  length 
behind  his  steed,  so  that  the  fallen  knight  had  rolled  thrice  over  in  the 
dust  ere  he  ceased  to  fall. 

And  when  those  of  Sir  Kay's  party  who  were  nigh  to  him  beheld  what 
he  did,  they  gave  him  loud  and  vehement  acclaim,  and  that  in  such  meas- 
ure that  Sir  Kay  was  wonderfully  well  satisfied  and  pleased  at  heart. 

And,  indeed,  it  is  to  be  said  that  at  that  time  there  was  hardly  any  knight 
in  all  the  world  who  was  so  excellent  in  deeds  of  arms  as  Sir  Kay.  And 
though  there  afterward  came  knights  of  much  greater  renown  and  of  more 
glorious  achievement  (as  shall  be  hereinafter  recorded  in  good  season),  yet 
at  that  time  Sir  Kay  was  reckoned  by  many  to  be  one  of  the  most  wonder- 
fully puissant  knights  (whether  errant  or  in  battle)  in  all  of  that  realm. 

So  was  that  course  of  the  combat  run  to  the  great  pleasure  and  satis- 
faction of  all  who  beheld  it,  and  more  especially  of  Sir  Kay  and  his  friends. 
And  after  it  had  been  completed  the  two  parties  in  array  returned  each  to 
its  assigned  station  once  more. 

And  when  they  had  come  there,  each  knight  delivered  up  his  spear  unto 
his  esquire.  For  the  assault  which  was  next  to  be  made  was  to  be  under- 
taken with  swords,  wherefore  all  lances  and  other  weapons  were  to  be 
put  away  ;  such  being  the  order  of  that  courteous  and  gentle  bout  at 
arms. 

Accordingly,  when  the  herald  again  blew  upon  his  trumpet,  each  knight 
drew  his  weapon  with  such  readiness  for  battle  that  there  was  a  great 
Gf  the  contest  splendor  of  blades  all  flashing  in  the  air  at  once.  And  when 
with  swords.  tne  herald  blew  a  second  time  each  party  pushed  forward  to 
the  contest  with  great  nobleness  of  heart  and  eagerness  of  spirit,  every 
knight  being  moved  with  intent  to  engage  his  oppugnant  with  all  the 
might  and  main  that  lay  in  him. 

Then  immediately  began  so  fierce  a  battle  that  if  those  knights  had 
been  very  enemies  of  long  standing  instead  of  friendly  contestants,  the 
blows  which  they  delivered  the  one  upon  the  other  could  not  have  been 
more  vehement  as  to  strength  or  more  astonishing  to  gaze  upon. 

And  in  this  affair  likewise  Sir  Kay  approved  himself  to  be  so  extraor- 
dinary a  champion  that  his  like  was  nowhere  to  be  seen  in  all  that  field ;  for 
he  violently  smote  down  five  knights,  the  one  after  the  other,  ere  he  was 
stayed  in  his  advance. 

Wherefore,  beholding  him  to  be  doing  work  of  such  a  sort,  several  of 
the  knights  of  the  other  party  endeavored  to  come  at  him  with  intent  to 
meet  him  in  his  advance. 

Amongst  these  was  a  certain  knight,  hight  Sir  Balamorgineas,  who  was 


SIR  KAY  BREAKS  HIS  SWORD  ,5 

so  huge  of  frame  that  he  rode  head  and  shoulders  above  any  other  knight. 
And  he  was  possessed  of  such  extraordinary  strength  that  it  was  believed 
that  he  could  successfully  withstand  the  assault  of  three  ordinary  knights 
at  one  time.  Wherefore  when  this  knight  beheld  the  work  that  Sir  Kay 
did,  he  cried  out  to  him,  "  Ho !  ho!  Sir  Knight  of  the  black  gryphon,  turn 
thou  hitherward  and  do  a  battle  with  me  !  " 

Now  when  Sir  Kay  beheld  Sir  Balamorgineas  to  be  minded  to  come 
against  him  in  that  wise— very  threateningly  and  minded  to  do  him 
battle — he  turned  him  toward  his  enemy  with  great  cheerful- 

,          .    .          _  ,  Mr    /iay   con- 

ness  of  spirit,  tor  at  that  time  Sir  Kay  was  very  full  of  tests  with  sir 
youthful  fire  and  reckoned  nothing  of  assaulting  any  enemy  £alamorgineas- 
who  might  demand  battle  of  him. 

(So  it  was  at  that  time.  But  it  after  befell,  when  he  became  Seneschal, 
and  when  other  and  mightier  knights  appeared  at  the  court  of  the  King, 
that  he  would  sometimes  avoid  an  encounter  with  such  a  knight  as  Sir 
Launcelot,  or  Sir  Pellias,  or  Sir  Marhaus,  or  Sir  Gawaine,  if  he  might  do 
so  with  credit  to  his  honor.) 

So,  being  very  full  of  the  spirit  of  youth,  he  turned  him  with  great 
lustiness  of  heart,  altogether  inflamed  with  the  eagerness  and  fury  ot 
battle.  And  he  cried  out  in  a  great  voice,  "  Very  well,  I  will  do  battle 
with  thee,  and  I  will  cast  thee  down  like  thy  fellows  ! "  And  therewith  he 
smote  with  wonderful  fierceness  at  Sir  Balamorgineas,  and  that  with  all 
his  might.  And  Sir  Balamorgineas  received  the  stroke  upon  his  helmet 
and  was  altogether  bewildered  by  the  fury  thereof,  for  he  had  never  felt 
its  like  before  that  time.  Wherefore  his  brains  swam  so  light  that  it 
was  necessary  for  him  to  hold  to  the  horn  of  his  saddle  to  save  himself 
from  falling. 

But  it  was  a  great  pity  for  Sir  Kay  that,  with  the  fierceness  of  the 
blow,  his  sword-blade  snapped  short  at  the  haft,  flying  so  high  in  the  air 
that  it  appeared  to  overtop  the  turrets  of  the  cathedral  in  its  flight. 
Yet  so  it  happened,  and  thus  it  befell  that  Sir  Kay  was  left  sir  Kay  break- 
without  any  weapon.  Yet  it  was  thought  that,  because  of  ethh 
that  stroke,  he  had  Sir  Balamorgineas  entirely  at  his  mercy,  and  that  if  he 
could  have  struck  another  blow  with  his  sword  he  might  easily  have  over- 
come him. 

But  as  it  was,  Sir  Balamorgineas  presently  so  far  recovered  himself  that 
he  perceived  his  enemy  to  be  altogether  at  his  mercy ;  wherefore,  being 
filled  beyond  measure  with  rage  because  of  the  blow  he  had  received,  he 
pushed  against  Sir  Kay  with  intent  to  smite  him  down  in  a  violent  assault. 

In  this  pass  it  would  maybe  have  gone  very  ill  with  Sir  Kay  but  that 


16  THE    WINNING    OF  KINGHOOD 

three  of  his  companions  in  arms,  perceiving  the  extreme  peril  in  which  he 
lay,  thrust  in  betwixt  him  and  Sir  Balamorgineas  with  intent  to  take  upon 
themselves  the  assault  of  that  knight  and  so  to  save  Sir  Kay  from  over- 
throw. This  they  did  with  such  success  that  Sir  Kay  was  able  to  push 
out  from  the  press  and  to  escape  to  the  barriers  without  suffering  any 
further  harm  at  the  hands  of  his  enemies. 

Now  when  he  reached  the  barrier,  his  esquire,  young  Arthur,  came  run- 
ning to  him  with  a  goblet  of  spiced  wine.  And  Sir  Kay  opened  the  um- 
bril  of  his  helmet  for  to  drink,  for  he  was  athirst  beyond  measure.  And, 
lo  !  his  face  was  all  covered  over  with  blood  and  sweat,  and  he  was  so 
a-drought  with  battle  that  his  tongue  clave  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth  and  he 
could  not  speak.  But  when  he  had  drunk  of  the  draught  that  Arthur 
gave  him,  his  tongue  was  loosened  and  he  cried  out  to  the  young  man 
*n  a  ^ouc*  anc*  v^°^ent  v°ice  :  "  ^o  !  ho  !  Brother,  get  me 


Sir  Ka  bids 

Arthur  get  him   another  sword  for  to  do  battle,  for  I  am  assuredly  winning  for 

a  sword.  Qur  house  much  glory  this  day  !  "  And  Arthur  said,  "  Where 

shall  I  get  thee  a  sword  ?  "  And  Kay  said,  "  Make  haste  unto  our  father's 
pavilion  and  fetch  me  thence  another  sword,  for  this  which  I  have  is 
broken."  And  Arthur  said,  "  I  will  do  so  with  all  speed,"  and  thereupon  he 
set  hand  to  the  barrier  and  leaped  over  it  into  the  alleyway  beyond.  And 
he  ran  down  the  alleyway  with  all  the  speed  that  he  was  able  with  intent 
to  fulfil  that  task  which  his  brother  had  bidden  him  to  undertake  ;  and  with 
like  speed  he  ran  to  that  pavilion  that  his  father  had  set  up  in  the  meadows. 

But  when  he  came  to  the  pavilion  of  Sir  Ector  he  found  no  one  there, 
for  all  the  attendants  had  betaken  themselves  unto  the  tournament.  And 
neither  could  he  find  any  sword  fit  for  his  brother's  handling,  wherefore 
he  was  put  to  a  great  pass  to  know  what  to  do  in  that  matter. 

In  this  extremity  he  bethought  him  of  that  sword  that  stood  thrust  into 
the  anvil  before  the  cathedral,  and  it  appeared  to  him  that  such  a  sword 
as  that  would  suit  his  brother's  purposes  very  well.  Wherefore  he  said 
to  himself,  "  I  will  go  thither  and  get  that  sword  if  I  am  able  to  do  sD, 
for  it  will  assuredly  do  very  well  for  my  brother  for  to  finish  his  battle 
withal."  Whereupon  he  ran  with  all  speed  to  the  cathedral.  And  when 
he  had  come  there  he  discovered  that  no  one  was  there  upon  guard  at  the 
block  of  marble,  as  had  heretofore  been  the  case,  for  all  who  had  been 
upon  guard  had  betaken  themselves  unto  the  contest  of  arms  that  was  to- 
Arthur  draw  war(^'  And  the  anvil  and  the  sword  stood  where  he  could 
eth  the  sword  reach  them.  So,  there  being  no  one  to  stay  young  Arthur, 
from  the  anvil.  ^  ieaped  up  upon  the  block  of  marble  and  laid  his  hands  unto 
the  hilt  of  the  sword.  And  he  bent  his  body  and  drew  upon  the  sword 


SIX  KAY  KEEPETH  THE  MAGIC  SWORD  I? 

very  strongly,  and,  lo  !  it  came  forth  from  the  anvil  with  wonderful  smooth- 
ness  and  ease,  and  he  held  the  sword  in  his  hand,  and  it  was  his. 

And  when  he  had  got  the  sword  in  that  way,  he  wrapped  it  in  his  cloak 
so  that  no  one  might  see  it  (for  it  shone  with  an  exceeding  brightness  and 
splendor)  and  he  leaped  down  from  the  block  of  marble  stone  and  hastened 
with  it  unto  the  field  of  battle. 

Now  when  Arthur  had  entered  into  that  meadow  once  more,  he  found 
Sir  Kay  awaiting  his  coming  with  great  impatience  of  spirit.  And  when 
Sir  Kay  saw  him  he  cried  out,  very  vehemently,  "  Hast  thou  got  a  sword  ?  " 
And  Arthur  said,  "Yea,  I  have  one  here."  Thereupon  he  opened  his 
cloak  and  showed  Sir  Kay  what  sword  it  was  he  had  brought. 

Now  when  Sir  Kay  beheld  the  sword  he  immediately  knew  it,  and  he 
wist  not  what  to  think  or  what  to  say,  wherefore  he  stood  for  a  while,  like 
one  turned  into  a  stone,  looking  upon  that  sword.  Then  in  awhile  he  said, 
in  a  very  strange  voice  "  Where  got  ye  that  sword?"  And  Arthur  looked 
upon  his  brother  and  he  beheld  that  his  countenance  was  greatly  disturbed, 
and  that  his  face  was  altogether  as  white  as  wax.  And  he  said,  "  Brother, 
what  ails  thee  that  thou  lookest  so  strangely.  I  will  tell  the  entire  truth. 
1  could  find  no  sword  in  our  fathers  pavilion,  wherefore  I  bethought  me 
of  that  sword  that  stood  in  the  anvil  upon  the  marble  cube  before  the 
cathedral.  So  I  went  thither  and  made  assay  for  to  draw  it  forth,  and  it 
came  forth  with  wonderful  ease.  So,  when  I  had  drawn  it  out,  I  wrapped 
it  in  my  cloak  and  brought  it  hither  unto  thee  as  thou  beholdest." 

Then  Sir  Kay  turned  his  thoughts  inward  aud  communed  with  himself 
in  this  wise,  "  Lo !  my  brother  Arthur  is  as  yet  hardly  more  than  a  child. 
And  he  is,  moreover,  exceedingly  innocent.     Therefore  he  knoweth  not 
what  he  hath  done  in  this  nor  what  the  doing  thereof  signi-    sirj^aykeep. 
fieth.     Now,  since  he  hath  achieved  this  weapon,  why  should    etk  the  sword 
I  not  myself  lay  claim  to  that  achievement,  and  so  obtain  the  for  hls  own- 
glory  which  it  signifieth."     Whereupon  he  presently  aroused  himself,  and 
he  said  to  Arthur,  "  Give  the  sword  and  the  cloak  to  me,"  and  Arthur  did 
as  his  brother  commanded.     And  when  he  had  done  so  Sir  Kay  said  to 
him,  "  Tell  no  man  of  this  but  keep  it  privy  in  thine  own  heart.     Mean- 
time go  thou  to  our  father  where  he  sits  at  the  lists  and  bid  come  straight- 
way unto  the  pavilion  where  we  have  taken  up  our  inn." 

And  Arthur  did  as  Sir  Kay  commanded  him,  greatly  possessed  with 
wonder  that  his  brother  should  be  so  disturbed  in  spirit  as  he  had  appeared 
to  be.  For  he  wist  not  what  he  had  done  in  drawing  out  that  sword  from 
the  anvil,  nor  did  he  know  of  what  great  things  should  arise  from  that 
little  thing,  for  so  it  is  in  this  world  that  a  man  sometimes  approves  him- 


i8  THE    WINNING    OF  KINGHOOD. 

self  to  be  worthy  of  such  a  great  trust  as  that,  and  yet,  in  lowliness  of 
spirit,  he  is  yet  altogether  unaware  that  he  is  worthy  thereof.  And  so  it 
was  with  young  Arthur  at  that  time. 


it  Kay  si 


o 


mystic 


Chapter  Second. 


How  Arthur  Twice  Performed  the  Miracle  of  the  Sword  Before  Sir 
Ector  and  of  How  His  Birthright  Was  Discovered  Unto  Him. 

SO  Arthur  made  haste  to  that  part  of  the  lists  where  Sir  Ector  sat 
with  the  people  of  his  household.     And  he  stood  before  his  father 
and  said,   "  Sire,  my  brother  Kay  hath  sent  me  hitherward  for  to 
bid  thee  come  straightway  unto  the  pavilion  where  we  have  taken  up 
our  inn.     And,  truly,  I  think  something  very  extraordinary  hath  befallen, 
for  my  brother  Kay  hath  such  a  countenance  as  I  never  saw  him  wear." 

Then  Sir  Ector  marvelled  very  greatly  what  it  was  that  should  cause 
Sir  Kay  to  quit  that  battle  and  to  summon  him  at  such  a  time,  wherefore 
he  arose  from  where  he  sat  and  went  with  Arthur.  And  they  went  to  the 
pavilion,  and  when  he  had  come  there,  behold  !  Sir  Kay  was  standing  in 
the  midst  of  the  pavilion.  And  Sir  Ector  saw  that  his  face  was  as  white  as 
ashes  of  wood  and  that  his  eyes  shone  with  a  wonderful  brightness.  And 
Sir  Ector  said,  "  My  son,  what  ails  thee  ? "  whereunto  Sir  Kay  made 
reply,  "  Sire,  here  is  a  very  wonderful  matter."  Therewith  he  took  his 
father  by  the  hand  and  brought  him  to  the  table  that  stood  in  the  pavilion. 
And  upon  the  table  there  lay  a  cloak  and  there  was  something  within  the 
cloak.  Then  Sir  Kay  opened  the  cloak  and,  lo !  there  lay  the  sword  of  the 
anvil,  and  the  hilt  thereof  and  the  blade  thereof  glistered  with  exceeding 
splendor. 

And  Sir    Ector   immediately   knew  that  sword    and    whence   it  came. 
Wherefore    he    was   filled  with   such   astonishment   that   he 
wist  not  what  to  do.      And    for  a  while  his  tongue  refused    f0rldftchf°trhebe~ 
to   speak,  and  after  a  while  he  found  speech  and  cried  out   sword. 
aloud  in  a  great  voice,  "  What  is  this  that  mine  eyes  behold  ! " 

To  this  Sir  Kay  made  reply,  "  Sire.   I  have  that  sword  which  stood  a 
while  since  embedded  in  the  anvil  that  stands  upon  the  cube  of  marble 
stone   before  the  great  cathedral.      Wherefore  I  demand  that  thou  tell 
est  me  what  this  may  foretend  ?" 

Then  Sir  Ector  said,  "  How  came  you  by  that  sword?" 


22  THE    WINNING    OF  KINGHOOD 

And  for  a  while  Sir  Kay  was  silent,  but  after  a  while  he  said,  "Sire,  I 
brake  my  sword  in  that  battle  which  of  late  I  fought,  whereupon  I  found 
me  this  sword  in  its  stead." 

Then  Sir  Ector  was  altogether  bemazed  and  knew  not  whether  to  be- 
lieve  what  his  ears  heard.  And  after  awhile  he  said,  "  If  so  be  that  thou 
didst  draw  forth  this  sword  from  the  anvil,  then  it  must  also  be  that  thou 
art  rightwise  King  of  Britain,  for  so  the  saying  of  the  sword  proclaim- 
eth.  But  if  thou  didst  indeed  draw  it  forth  from  the  anvil,  then  it  will  be 
that  thou  shalt  as  easily  be  able  for  to  thrust  it  back  again  into  that  place 
from  whence  thou  didst  take  it." 

At  this  a  great  trouble  of  spirit  fell  upon  Sir  Kay,  and  he  cried  out  in  a 
very  loud  voice,  "  Who  may  do  such  a  thing  as  that,  and  who  could  per- 
form so  great  a  miracle  as  to  thrust  a  sword  into  solid  iron."  Whereunto 
Sir  Ector  made  reply,  "  Such  a  miracle  is  no  greater  than  the  miracle  that 
thou  hast  performed  in  drawing  it  out  from  its  embedment.  For  who 
ever  heard  that  a  man  could  draw  forth  a  sword  from  a  place  and  yet 
would  not  thrust  it  back  whence  he  drew  it  ?  " 

Then  Sir  Kay  wist  not  what  to  say  to  his  father,  and  he  greatly  feared 
that  he  should  not  be  able  to  perform  that  miracle.  But,  nevertheless,  he 
took  what  comfort  to  himself  he  was  able,  saying,  "If  my  young  brother 
Arthur  was  able  to  perform  this  miracle  why  should  I  not  do  a  miracle  of 
a  like  sort,  for,  assuredly,  I  am  not  less  worthy  than  he.  Wherefore  if  he 
drew  the  sword  forth  with  such  ease,  it  may  be  that  I  with  equal  ease 
shall  be  able  to  thrust  it  back  into  its  place  again."  Accordingly  he  took 
such  comfort  to  himself  in  these  thoughts  as  he  was  able. 

So  he  wrapped  the  sword  in  the  cloak  again,  and  when  he  had  done  so 
he  and  Sir  Ector  went  forth  from  the  pavilion  and  betook  their  way  unto 
where  was  the  marble  stone  and  the  anvil  before  the  cathedral.  And 
Arthur  went  with  his  father  and  his  brother  and  they  forebade  him  not.  And 
when  they  had  come  to  that  place  where  the  sword  had  been,  Sir  Kay 
mounted  upon  the  cube  of  marble  stone  and  beheld  the  face  of  the  anvil. ' 
And  lo !  the  face  of  the  anvil  was  altogether  smooth  and  without  a  scratch 
or  scar  of  any  sort.  And  Sir  Kay  said  to  himself,  "  What  is  this  my 
father  would  have  me  do !  What  man  is  there  in  life  who  could  thrust  a 
sword-blade  into  a  solid  anvil  of  iron?"  But,  ne'theless,  he  could  not 
withdraw  from  that  impossible  undertaking:,  but  was  con- 

Str  Kay  assays  »' 

to  put  back  the   strained  to  assay  that  miracle,  wherefore  he  set  the  point  of 
sword  but  fail-    tke  swor(j  to  ^  jron  an(j  bore  upon  it  with  ^  fas  strength. 

But  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  accomplish  that  thing,  and 
though   he   endeavored  with  all  his  might  with  the   sword   against  the 


ARTHUR  REPLACES   THE  SWORD  23 

face   of  the  anvil,  yet  did  he  not  pierce   the  iron  even  to'  the   breadth 
of  a  hair. 

So,  after  he  had  thus  assayed  for  a  great  while,  he  at  last  ceased  what 
he  did  and  came  down  from  where  he  stood.  And  he  said  to  his  father, 
"  Sire,  no  man  in  life  may  perform  that  miracle." 

Unto  this  Sir  Ector  made  reply,  "  How  is  it  possible  then  that  thou 
couldst  have  drawn  out  that  sword  as  thou  sayst  and  yet  cannot  put  it 
back  again  ?  " 

Then  young  Arthur  lifted  up  his  voice  and  said,  "  My  father,  have  I  thy 
leave  to  speak?"  And  Sir  Ector  said,  "Speak,  my  son."  And  Arthur 
said,  "  I  would  that  I  might  assay  to  handle  that  sword?"  Whereunto 
Sir  Ector  replied,  "  By  what  authority  wouldst  thou  handle  that  sword?" 
And  Arthur  said,  "  Because  it  was  I  who  drew  that  sword  forth  from  the 
anvil  for  my  brother.  Wherefore,  as  thou  sayest,  to  draw  it  forth  is  not 
more  difficult  than  to  thrust  it  back  again.  So  I  believe  that  I  shall  be 
able  to  set  it  back  into  the  iron  whence  I  drew  it." 

Then  Sir  Ector  gazed  upon  young  Arthur  in  such  a  strange  manner 
that  Arthur  wist  not  why  he  looked  at  him  in  that  wise.  Wherefore  he 
cried  out,  "  Sire,  why  dost  thou  gaze  so  strangely  upon  me  ?  Has  thou 
anger  against  me?"  Whereunto  Sir  Ector  made  reply,  "  In  the  sight  of 
God,  my  son,  I  have  no  anger  against  thee."  Then  he  said,  "  If  thou  hast 
a  desire  to  handle  the  sword,  thou  mayst  assuredly  make  assay  of  that 
miracle." 

So  Arthur  took  the  sword  from  his  brother  Kay  and  he  leaped  up  upon 
the  marble  stone.     And  he  set  the  point  of  the  sword  upon  the  anvil  and 
bare   very   strongly  upon   it    and  lo!    the  sword  penetrated    Arthur  per- 
very  smoothly  into  the    centre   of    the  anvil   until   it   stood  ^JJJ^-Jf.^ 
midway  deep  therein,  and  there  it  stood  fast.     And  after  he    sword  and  the 
had  performed  that  miracle  he  drew  the  sword  forth  again    anml' 
very  swiftly  and  easily,  and  then  thrust  it  back  again  once  more  as  he 
had  done  before. 

But  when  Sir  Ector  beheld  what  Arthur  did,  he  cried  out  in  a  voice  of 
exceeding  loudness,  "Lord!  Lord!  what  is  the  miracle  mine  eyes  be- 
hold!" And  when  Arthur  came  down  from  the  cube  of  marble  stone,  Sir 
Ector  kneeled  down  before  him  and  set  his  hands  together,  palm  to  palm. 

But  when  Arthur  beheld  what  his  father  did,  he  cried  out  aloud  like 
one  in  a  great  measure  of  pain;  and  he  said,  «  My  father!  my  father!  why 
dost  thou  kneel  down  to  me?" 

To  him  Sir  Ector  made  reply,  "  I  am  not  thy  father,  and  now  it  is  made 
manifest  that  thou  art  assuredly  of  very  exalted  race  and  that  the  blood  ot 


24  THE    WINNING    OF  KINGHOOD 

kings  flows  in  thy  veins,  else  thou  couldst  not  have  handled  that  sword  as 
thou  hast  done." 

Then  Arthur  fell  a-weeping  beyond  all  measure  and  he  cried  out  as 
with  great  agony  of  spirit,  "Father!  father!  what  is  this  thou  sayst?  I 
beseech  thee  to  arise  and  not  to  kneel  unto  me." 

So  Sir  Ector  arose  from  his  knees  and  stood  before  the  face  of  Arthur, 
and  he  said,  "  Arthur,  why  dost  thou  weep?"  And  Arthur  said,  "Because 
I  am  afeard." 

Now  all  this  while  Sir  Kay  had  stood  near  by  and  he  could  neither 
move  nor  speak,  but  stood  like  one  entranced,  and  he  said  to  himself, 
"What  is  this?  Is  my  brother  a  King?" 

Then  Sir  Ector  spake,  saying,  "  Arthur,  the  time  hath  come  for  thee  to 
know  thyself,  for  the  true  circumstances  of  thy  life  have,  heretofore,  been 
altogether  hidden  from  thee. 

"Now   I    do  confess  everything  to  thee   in   this  wise:   that   eighteen 

year  ago  there  came  to  me  a  certain  man  very  wise  and  high  in  favor 

with    Uther-Pendragon    and    that    man    was   the    Enchanter 

<th  Arthur*tk<    Merlin.     And  Merlin  showed  me    the  signet  ring  of  Uther- 

circumstances      Pendragon  and   he  commanded   me  by   virtue   of   that   ring 

of  his  infancy.      ITIIII  •  •  \      \  •       i 

that  I  should  be  at  a  certain  assigned  place  at  a  particular 
time  which  he  nominated ;  and  the  place  which  he  assigned  was  the 
postern  gate  of  Uther-Pendragon's  castle ;  and  the  time  which  he  named 
was  midnight  of  that  very  day. 

"And  he  bade  me  tell  no  man  aught  concerning  those  things  which  he 
communicated  to  me,  and  so  I  kept  his  counsel  as  he  desired  me  to  do. 

"  So  I  went  to  that  postern  gate  at  midnight  as  Merlin  had  commanded, 
and  at  that  place  there  came  unto  me  Merlin  and  another  man,  and  the 
other  man  was  Sir  Ulfius,  who  was  the  chief  knight  of  Uther-Pendrag- 
on's household.  And  I  tell  thee  that  these  two  worthies  stood  nigher 
unto  Uther-Pendragon  than  any  other  men  in  all  of  the  world. 

"Now  when  those  two  came  unto  me,  I  perceived  that  Merlin  bare  in 
his  arms  a  certain  thing  wrapped  in  a  scarlet  mantle  of  fine  texture.  And 
he  opened  the  folds  of  the  mantle  and,  lo !  I  beheld  a  child  not  long  born 
and  wrapped  in  swaddling  clothes.  And  I  saw  the  child  in  the  light  of  a 
lanthorn  which  Sir  Ulfius  bare,  and  I  perceived  that  he  was  very  fair  of 
face  and  large  of  bone — and  thou  wert  that  child. 

"Then  Merlin  commanded  me  in  this  wise:  that  I  was  to  take  that  child 
and  that  I  should  rear  him  as  mine  own ;  and  he  said  that  the  child  was  to 
be  called  by  the  name  of  Arthur;  and  he  said  that  no  one  in  all  the  world 
was  to  know  otherwise  than  that  the  child  was  mine  own.  And  I  told 


ARTHURS  ROYALTY  IS  MANIFESTED  2$ 

Merlin  that  I  would  do  as  he  would  have  me,  whereupon  I  took  the 
child  and  bare  it  away  with  me.  And  I  proclaimed  that  the  child  was 
mine  own,  and  all  over  the  world  believed  my  words,  wherefore  no  one 
ever  knew  otherwise  than  that  thou  wert  mine  own  son.  And  that  lady 
who  was  my  wife,  when  she  died  she  took  that  secret  with  her  unto  Para- 
dise, and  since  then  until  now  no  one  in  all  the  world  knew  aught  of  this 
matter  but  I  and  those  two  aforementioned  worthies. 

"  Nor  have  I  until  now  ever  known  aught  of  who  was  thy  father;  but 
now  I  do  suspect  who  he  was  and  that  thou  hast  in  thy  veins  very  high 
and  kingly  blood.  And  I  do  have  in  mind  that  perhaps  thy  father  was 
Uther-Pendragon  himself.  For  who  but  the  son  of  Uther-Pendragon 
could  have  drawn  forth  that  sword  from  out  of  the  anvil  as  thou  hast  done  ?  " 

Then,  when  Arthur  heard  that  saying  of  his  father's,  he  cried  out  in  a 
very  loud  and  vehement  voice,  "Woe!  Woe!  Woe!" — saying  that 
word  three  times.  And  Sir  Ector  said,  "Arthur,  why  art  thou  woful?" 
And  Arthur  said,  "  Because  I  have  lost  my  father,  for  I  would  rather  have 
my  father  than  be  a  King! " 

Now  as  these  things  passed,  there  came  unto  that  place  two  men,  very 
tall  and  of  a  wonderfully  noble  and  haughty  appearance.  And  when 
these  two  men  had  come  nigh  to  where  they  were,  Arthur  and  Sir  Ector 
and  Sir  Kay  preceived  that  one  of  them  was  the  Enchanter  Merlin  and 
that  the  other  was  Sir  Ulfius — for  those  two  men  were  very  , 

i  Merlin  and  Sir 

famous  and  well  known  unto  all  the  world.     And  when  those  uifius  appear 
two  had  come  to  where  were  the  three,  Merlin  spake,  saying,  to  the  three- 
"  What  cheer?  "     And  Sir  Ector  made  answer,  "  Here  is  cheer  of  a  very 
wonderful  sort;    for,  behold,  Merlin!   this  is  that  child  that  thou  didst 
bring  unto  me  eighteen  years  ago,  and,  lo!  thou  seest  he  hath  grown  unto 
manhood." 

Then  Merlin  said,  "  Sir  Ector,  I  know  very  well  who  is  this  youth,  for  I 
have  kept  diligent  watch  over  him  for  all  this  time.  And  I  know  that  in 
him  lieth  the  hope  of  Britain.  Moreover,  I  tell  thee  that  even  to-day  within 
the  surface  of  an  enchanted  looking-glass  I  have  beheld  all  that  he  hath 
done  since  the  morning  ;  and  I  know  how  he  drew  forth  the  sword  from  the 
anvil,  and  how  he  thrust  it  back  again  ;  and  I  know  how  he  drew  it  forth  and 
thrust  it  back  a  second  time.  And  I  know  all  that  thou  hast  been  saying 
unto  him  this  while;  wherefore  I  also  do  now  avouch  that  thou  hast  told 
him  the  very  truth.  And,  lo !  the  spirit  of  prophecy  is  upon  me  and  I  do 
foresee  into  the  future  that  thou,  Arthur,  shall  become  the  greatest  and 
most  famous  King  that  ever  lived  in  Britain  ;  and  I  do  foresee  that  many 
knights  of  extraordinary  excellence  shall  gather  about  thee  and  that  men 


26  THE    WINNING    OF  KINGHOOD 

shall  tell  of  their  marvellous  deeds  as  long  as  this  land  shall  continue,  and 
I  do  foresee  that  through  these  knights  thy  reign  shall  be  full  of  splendor 
and  glory ;  and  I  do  foresee  that  the  most  marvellous  adventure  oi  the 
Holy  Grail  shall  be  achieved  by  three  of  the  knights  of  thy  Court,  and  that 
to  thy  lasting  renown,  who  shall  be  the  King  under  whose  reign  the  holy 
cup  shall  be  achieved.  All  these  things  I  foresee;  and,  lo !  the  time  is 
now  at  hand  when  the  glory  of  thy  House  shall  again  be  made  manifest 
unto  the  world,  and  all  the  people  of  this  land  shall  rejoice  in  thee  and  thy 
kinghood.  Wherefore,  Sir  Ector,  for  these  three  days  to  come,  I  do 
charge  it  upon  thee  that  thou  do  guard  this  young  man  as  the  apple  of 
thine  eye,  for  in  him  doth  lie  the  hope  and  salvation  of  all  this  realm." 

Then  Sir  Ector  lifted  up  his  voice  and  cried  unto  Arthur,  "  A  boon !  a 
boon  !  "  And  Arthur  said,  "  Alas !  how  is  this  ?  Dost  thou,  my  father,  ask 
a  boon  of  me  who  may  have  all  in  the  world  that  is  mine  to  give?  Ask 
what  thou  wilt  and  it  is  thine !  "  Then  Sir  Ector  said,  "  I  do 
craveth  a  boon  beseech  this  of  thee  i  that  when  thou  art  King  thy  brother 
of  Arthur.  Kay  mav  be  Seneschal  of  all  this  realm."  And  Arthur  said, 
«'  It  shall  be  as  thou  dost  ask."  And  he  said,  "  As  for  thee,  it  shall  be  still 
better  with  thee,  for  thou  shalt  be  my  father  unto  the  end!  "  Whereupon 
so  saying,  he  took  Sir  Ector' s  head  into  his  hands  and  he  kissed  Sir  Ector 
upon  the  forehead  and  upon  the  cheeks,  and  so  sealed  his  plighted  word. 

But  all  this  while  Sir  Kay  had  stood  like  unto  one  struck  by  thunder, 
and  he  wist  not  whether  to  be  uplifted  unto  the  skies  or  to  be  cast  down 
into  the  depths,  that  his  young  brother  should  thus  have  been  passed  by 
him  and  exalted  unto  that  extraordinary  altitude  of  fortune.  Wherefore 
he  stood  like  to  one  bereft  of  life  and  motion. 

And  let  it  here  be  said  that  Arthur  fulfilled  all  that  he  had  thus 
promised  to  his  father — for,  in  after  times,  he  made  Sir  Kay  his  Sene. 
schal,  and  Sir  Ector  was  to  him  a  father  until  the  day  of  his  death,  which 
same  befell  five  years  from  that  time. 

Thus  I  have  told  you  how  the  royalty  of  Arthur  was  first  discovered. 
And  now,  if  you  will  listen,  ye  shall  hear  how  it  was  confirmed  before  all 
the  world. 


drew  f otffyf  St&otb. 


Chapter  Third. 

How  Several  Kings  and  High  Dukes  Assayed  to  Draw  the  Sword 
Out  of  the  Anvil  and  How  They  Failed.  Likewise  How  Arthur 
Made  the  Assay  and  Succeeded  Therein. 

SO  when  the  morning  of  Christmas  day  had  come,  many  thousands 
of  folk  of  all  qualities,  both  gentle  and  simple,  gathered  together 
in  front  of  the  cathedral  for  to  behold  the  assay  of  that  sword. 

Now  there  had  been  a  canopy  of  embroidered  cloth  of  divers  colors 
spread  above  the  sword  and  the  anvil,  and  a  platform  had  been  built 
around  about  the  cube  of  marble  stone.  And  nigh  unto  that  place  there 
had  been  a  throne  for  the  Archbishop  established  ;  for  the  Archbishop 
was  to  overlook  that  assay  and  to  see  that  every  circumstance  was  fulfilled 
with  due  equity  and  circumspection. 

So,  when  the  morning  was  half  gone  by,  the  Archbishop  himself  came 
with  great  pomp  of  estate  and  took  his  seat  upon  the  high  throne  that  had 
been  placed  for  him,  and  all  his  court  of  clerks  and  knights  gathered  about 
him,  so  that  he  presented  a  very  proud  and  excellent  appearance  of 
courtliness. 

Now  unto  that  assay  there  had  gathered  nineteen  kings  and  sixteen 
dukes,  and  each  of  these  was  of  such  noble  and  exalted  estate  that  he  en- 
tertained high  hopes  that  he  would  that  day  be  approved  before  the  world 
to  be  the  right  king  and  overlord  of  all  Britain.  Wherefore  after  the 
Archbishop  had  established  himself  upon  his  throne,  there  came  several  of 
these  and  made  demand  that  he  should  straightway  put  that  matter  to  the 
test.  So  the.  Archbishop  commanded  his  herald  for  to  sound  a  trumpet, 
and  to  bid  all  who  had  the  right  to  make  assay  of  the  sword  to  come 
unto  that  adventure,  and  the  herald  did  according  as  the  Archbishop  or- 
dered. 

And  when  the  herald  had  sounded  his  trumpet  there  immediately  ap- 
peared the  first  of  those  kings  to  make  trial  of  the  sword,  and  he  who  came 
was  King  Lot  of  Orkney  and  the  Isles.  With  King  Lot  there  came  eleven 


3o  THE    WINNING    OF  KINGHOOD 

knights  and  five  esquires,  so  that  he  appeared  in  very  noble  estate  before 
the  eyes  of  all.  And  when  King  Lot  had  arrived  at  that  place,  he  mounted 
the  platform.  And  first  he  saluted  the  Archbishop,  and  then  he  laid  his 
hands  to  the  pommel  of  the  sword  in  the  sight  of  all.  And  he  bent  his 
body  and  drew  upon  the  sword  with  great  strength,  but  he  could  not  move 
the  blade  in  the  anvil  even  so  much  as  the  breadth  of  a  hair,  for  it  stood  as 
King  Lot  of  fast  as  the  iron  in  which  it  was  planted.  And  after  that  first 
°ss?eofltketh  assay  he  tried  three  times  more,  but  still  he  was  altogether 
"word  and  fail-  unable  to  move  the  blade  in  the  iron.  Then,  after  that  he  had 
eth-  thus  four  times  made  assay,  he  ceased  his  endeavor  and  came 

down  from  that  place.  And  he  was  filled  with  great  anger  and  indigna- 
tion that  he  had  not  succeeded  in  his  endeavor. 

And  after  King  Lot  there  came  his  brother-in-law,  King  Urien  of  Gore, 

and  he  also  made  assay  in  the  same  wise  as  King  Lot  had  done.     But 

neither  did  he  succeed  any  better  than  that  other  king.     And  after  King 

Urien  there  came  King  Fion  of  Scotland,  and  after  King  Fion  there  came 

Kins:  Mark   of   Cornwall,  and  after  King  Mark  there  came 

Sundry  others 

make  assay  and  King  Ryence  of  North  Wales,  and  after  King  Ryence  there 
failf  came  King  Leodegrance  of  Cameliard,  and  after  him  came  all 

those  other  kings  and  dukes  before  numerated,  and  not  one  of  all  these 
was  able  to  move  the  blade.  And  some  of  these  high  and  mighty  lords 
were  filled  with  anger  and  indignation  that  they  had  not  succeeded,  and 
others  were  ashamed  that  they  had  failed  in  that  undertaking  before  the 
eyes  of  all  those  who  looked  upon  them.  But  whether  they  were  angry  or 
whether  they  were  ashamed  it  in  no  wise  helped  their  case. 

Now  when  all  the  kings  and  dukes  had  thus  failed  in  that  adventure, 
the  people  who  were  there  were  very  much  astonished,  and  they  said  to 
one  another,  "  How  is  this  ?  If  all  those  kings  and  dukes  of  very  exalted 
estate  have  failed  to  achieve  that  adventure,  who  then  may  hope  to  suc- 
ceed ?  For  here  have  been  all  those  who  were  most  worthy  of  that  high 
honor,  and  all  have  tried  to  draw  that  sword  and  all  have  failed.  Who 
then  is  there  now  to  come  after  these  who  may  hope  to  succeed?" 

And,  likewise,  those  kings  and  dukes  spoke  together  in  the  same  manner. 
And  by  and  by  there  came  six  of  the  most  worthy — to  wit,  King  Lot, 
King  Urien,  King  Pellinore,  King  Ban,  King  Ryence,  and  Duke  Clarence  of 
Northumberland — and  these  stood  before  the  throne  of  the  Archbishop  and 
spake  to  him  in  this  wise:  "  Sir,  here  have  all  the  kings  and  dukes  of  this 
realm  striven  before  you  for  to  draw  forth  that  sword,  and  lo  !  not  one  of 
all  those  who  have  undertaken  that  thing  hath  succeeded  in  his  undertak- 
ing. What,  then,  may  we  understand  but  that  the  enchanter  Merlin  hath 


THE  KINGS  ARE  DISPLEASED  3, 

set  this  adventure  for  to  bring  shame  and  discredit  upon  all  of  us  who  are 
here,  and  upon  you,  who  are  the  head  of  the  church  in  this 
realm  ?  For  who  in  all  the  world  may  hope  to  draw  forth  a  £***?%%£? 
sword-blade  out  from  a  bed  of  solid  iron  ?  Behold !  it  is  be-  contenied- 
yond  the  power  of  any  man.  Is  it  not  then  plain  to  be  seen  that  Merlin 
hath  made  a  mock  of  us  all  ?  Now,  therefore,  lest  all  this  great  congre- 
gation should  have  been  called  here  in  vain,  we  do  beseech  you  of  your 
wisdom  that  you  presently  choose  the  one  from  among  the  kings  here 
gathered,  who  may  be  best  fitted  to  be  overlord  of  this  realm.  And  when 
ye  shall  have  chosen  him,  we  will  promise  to  obey  him  in  all  things 
whatsoever  he  may  ordain.  Verily,  such  a  choice  as  that  will  be  better 
worth  while  than  to  spend  time  in  this  foolish  task  of  striving  to  draw  forth 
a  sword  out  of  an  anvil  which  no  man  in  all  the  world  may  draw  forth." 

Then  was  the  Archbishop  much  troubled  in  spirit,  for  he  said  to  himself, 
"  Can  it  be  sooth  that  Merlin  hath  deceived  me,  and  hath  made  a  mock  of 
me  and  of  all  these  kings  and  lordly  folk  ?  Surely  this  cannot  be.  For 
Merlin  is  passing  wise,  and  he  would  not  make  a  mock  of  all  the  realm  for 
the  sake  of  so  sorry  a  jest  as  this  would  be.  Certes  he  hath  some  intent 
in  this  of  which  we  know  naught,  being  of  less  wisdom  than  he — where- 
fore I  will  be  patient  for  a  while  longer."  Accordingly,  having  communed 
thus  within  himself,  he  spake  aloud  in  this  wise  to  those  seven  high  lords: 
"  Messires,"  he  said,  "  I  have  yet  faith  that  Merlin  hath  not  deceived  us, 
wherefore  I  pray  your  patience  for  one  little  while  longer.  For  if,  in  the 
time  a  man  may  count  five  hundred  twice  over,  no  one  cometh  forward  to 
perform  this  task,  then  will  I,  at  your  behest,  proceed  to  choose  one  from 
amongst  you  and  will  proclaim  him  King  and  Overlord  of  all."  For  the 
Archbishop  had  faith  that  Merlin  was  about  to  immediately  declare  a  king 
before  them  all. 

Now  leave  we  these  and  turn  we  unto  Arthur  and  his  father  and 
brother. 

For  Merlin  had  bidden  those  three  to  abide  in  their  pavilion  until  such 
time  as  he  thought  would  be  fit  for  them  to  come  out  thence.  And  that 
time  being  now  come,  Merlin  and  Sir  Ulfius  went  to  the  pavilion  of  Sir 
Ector,  and  Merlin  said,  "  Arthur,  arise  and  come  forth,  for  now  the  hour  is 
come  for  thee  to  assay  before  the  whole  world  that  miracle  which  thou 
didst  of  late  execute  in  privacy."  So  Arthur  did  as  Merlin  bade  him  to 
do,  and  he  came  forth  from  the  pavilion  with  his  father  and  his  brother, 
and,  lo  !  he  was  like  one  who  walked  in  a  dream. 

So  they  five  went  down  from  thence  toward  the  cathedral  and  unto  that 


32  THE    WINNING    OF  KINGHOOD 

place  of  assay.  And  when  they  had  come  to  the  congregation  there  as- 
sembled, the  people  made  way  for  them,  greatly  marvelling  and  saying  to 
„,  r  ,  .  one  another,  "  Who  are  these  with  the  Enchanter  Merlin  and 

Merlin  bring- 

eth  Arthur  to  Sir  Ulfius,  and  whence  come  they?  For  all  the  world  knew 
the  assay.  Merlin  and  Sir  Ulfius,  and  they  wist  that  here  was  something 

very  extraordinary  about  to  happen.  And  Arthur  was  clad  all  in  flame- 
colored  raiment  embroidered  with  threads  of  silver,  so  that  others  of  the 
people  said,  "  Certes,  that  youth  is  very  fair  for  to  look  upon;  now  who 
may  he  be  ?  " 

But  Merlin  said  no  word  to  any  man,  but  he  brought  Arthur  through 
the  press  unto  that  place  where  the  Archbishop  sat;  and  the  press  made 
way  for  him  so  that  he  was  not  stayed  in  his  going.  And  when  the  Arch- 
bishop beheld  Merlin  come  thus  with  those  others,  he  arose  and  said, 
"  Merlin,  who  are  these  whom  thou  bringest  unto  us,  and  what  is  their 
business  here?"  And  Merlin  said,  "  Lord,  here  is  one  come  to  make  the 
assay  of  yonder  sword."  And  the  Archbishop  said,  "  Which  one  is  he  ?  " 
and  Merlin  said,  "  This  is  he,"  and  he  laid  his  hand  upon  Arthur. 

Then  the  Archbishop  looked  upon  Arthur  and  he  beheld  that  the  youth 
was  very  comely  of  face,  wherefore  his  heart  went  out  unto  Arthur  and  he 
loved  him  a  very  great  deal.  And  the  Archbishop  said,  "Merlin,  by  what 
right  doth  this  young  man  come  hither  ?"  And  Merlin  made 
eiaiwth  the  reply,  "  Lord,  he  cometh  hither  by  the  best  right  that  there  is 
*n  world  ;  for  he  who  stand  eth  before  thee  clad  in  red  is 
the  true  son  of  Uther-Pendragon  and  of  his  lawful  wife, 
Queen  Igraine." 

Then  the  Archbishop  cried  out  aloud  in  great  amazement  and  those  who 
stood  nigh  and  who  heard  what  Merlin  said  were  so  astonished  that  they 
wist  not  what  to  think.  And  the  Archbishop  said, '"  Merlin,  what  is  this 
that  thou  tellest  me?  For  who,  until  now, in  all  the  world  hath  ever  heard 
that  Uther-Pendragon  had  a  son  ?  " 

Unto  this  Merlin  made  reply :  "  No  one  hath  ever  known  of  such  a 
thing  until  now,  only  a  very  few.  For  it  was  in  this  wise :  When  this 
child  was  born  the  spirit  of  prophecy  lay  upon  me  and  I  foresaw  that 
Uther-Pendragon  would  die  before  a  very  great  while.  Wherefore  I 
feared  that  the  enemies  of  the  King  would  lay  violent  hands  upon  the 
young  child  for  the  sake  of  his  inheritance.  So,  at  the  King's  behest,  I 
and  another  took  the  young  child  from  his  mother  and  gave  him  unto  a 
third,  and  that  man  received  the  kingly  child  and  maintained  him  ever 
since  as  his  own  son.  And  as  to  the  truth  of  these  things  there  are  others 
here  who  may  attest  the  verity  of  them— for  he  who  was  with  me  when 


ARTHUR  PERFORMS   THE   MIRACLE  33 

the  young  child  was  taken  from  his  mother  was  Sir  Ulfius,  and  he  to 
whom  he  was  entrusted  was  Sir  Ector  of  Bonmaison— and  those  two  wit- 
nesses, who  are  without  any  reproach,  will  avouch  to  the  verity  of  that 
which  I  have  asserted,  for  here  they  stand  before  thee  to  certify  unto 
what  I  have  said." 

And  Sir  Ulfius  and  Sir  Ector  said,  "All  that  Merlin  hath  spoken  is  true, 
and  thereunto  we  do  pledge  our  most  faithful  and  sacred  word  of  honor." 

Then  the  Archbishop  said,  "  Who  is  there  may  doubt  the  word  of  such 
honorable  witnesses?"  And  he  looked  upon  Arthur  and  smiled  upon  him. 

Then  Arthur  said,  "  Have  I  then  thy  leave,  Lord,  to  handle  yonder 
sword  ?  "  And  the  Archbishop  said,  "  Thou  hast  my  leave,  and  may  the 
grace  of  God  go  with  thee  to  do  thy  endeavor." 

Thereupon  Arthur  went  to  the  cube  of  marble  stone  and  he  laid  his 
hands  upon  the  haft  of  the  sword  that  was  thrust  into  the  anvil.  And  he 
bent  his  body  and  drew  very  strongly  and,  lo  !  the  sword  came  Arthur  drawm 
forth  with  great  ease  and  very  smoothly.  And  when  he  had  eth  forth  the 
got  the  sword  into  his  hands,  he  swung  it  about  his  head  so  sword- 
that  it  flashed  like  lightning.  And  after  he  had  swung  it  thus  thrice  about 
his  head,  he  set  the  point  thereof  against  the  face  of  the  anvil  and  bore 
upon  it  very  strongly,  and,  behold !  the  sword  slid  very  smoothly  back 
again  into  that  place  where  it  had  aforetime  stood ;  and  when  it  was 
there,  midway  deep,  it  stood  fast  where  it  was.  And  thus  did  Arthur  suc- 
cessfully accomplish  that  marvellous  miracle  of  the  sword  in  the  eyes  of 
all  the  world. 

Now  when  the  people  who  were  congregated  at  that  place  beheld  this 
miracle  performed  before  their  faces,  they  lifted  up  their  voices  all  together, 
and  shouted  so  vehemently  and  with  so  huge  a  tumult  of  outcry  that  it  was 
as  though  the  whole  earth  rocked  and  trembled  with  the  sound  of  their 
shouting. 

And  whiles  they  so  shouted  Arthur  took  hold  of  the  sword  again  and 
drew  it  forth  and  swung  it  again,  and  again  drave  it  back  into  the  anvil. 
And  when  he  had  done  that  he  drew  it  forth  a  third  time  and  did  the  same 
thing  as  before.  Thus  it  was  that  all  those  who  were  there  beheld  that 
miracle  performed  three  times  over. 

And  all  the  kings  and  dukes  who  were  there  were  filled  with  great 
amazement,  and  they  wist  not  what  to  think  or  to  say  when  they  beheld 
one  who  was  little  more  than  a  boy  perform  that  undertaking  in  which 
the  best  of  them  had  failed.  And  some  of  them,  seeing  that  miracle,  were 
willing  to  acknowledge  Arfnur  because  of  it,  but  others  would  not  acknowl- 
edge him.  These  withdrew  themselves  and  stood  aloof;  and  as  they  stood 


34  THE    WINNING    OF  KINGHOOD 

thus  apart,  they  said  among  themselves:  "  What  is  this  and  who  can  accredit 
such  a  thing  that  a  beardless  boy  should  be  set  before  us  all  and  should 
Several  of  the  ^e  ma^e  King  and  overlord  of  this  great  realm  for  to  govern 
king*  and  dukes  us.  Nay!  nay!  we  will  have  none  of  him  for  our  King." 
are  angry.  ^^  others  said,  "  Is  it  not  apparent  that  Merlin  and  Sir 
Ulfius  are  thus  exalting  this  unknown  boy  so  that  they  may  elevate  them- 
selves along  with  him?"  Thus  these  discontented  kings  spake  among 
themselves,  and  of  all  of  them  the  most  bitter  were  King  Lot  and  King 
Urien,  who  were  brothers  by  marriage  with  Arthur. 

Now  when  the  Archbishop  perceived  the  discontent  of  these  kings  and 
dukes,  he  said  to  them,  "  How  now,  Messires !  Are  ye  not  satisfied  ? " 
And  they  said,  "  We  are  not  satisfied."  And  the  Archbishop  said,  "  What 
would  ye  have?"  And  they  said,  "  We  would  have  another  sort  of  king 
for  Britain  than  a  beardless  boy  of  whom  no  one  knoweth  and  of  whose 
birthright  there  are  only  three  men  to  attest.*'  And  the  Archbishop  said? 
"  What  of  that  ?  Hath  he  not  performed  the  miracle  that  ye  yourselves 
assayed  and  failed  to  perform  ?  " 

But  these  high  and  mighty  lords  would  not  be  satisfied,  but  with  angry 
and  averted  faces  they  went  away  from  that  place,  filled  with  wrath  and 
indignation. 

But  others  of  these  kings  and  dukes  came  and  saluted  Arthur  and  paid 
Certain  kin  s  k*m  court,  giving  him  joy  of  that  which  he  had  achieved  ;  and 
and  dukes  ac-  the  chiefest  of  those  who  came  thus  unto  him  in  friendliness 
cept  Arthur.  wa§  King>  Lcodegrance  of  Cameliard.  And  all  the  multitude 
acknowledged  him  and  crowded  around  that  place  shouting  so  that  it 
sounded  like  to  the  noise  of  thunder. 

Now  all  this  while  Sir  Ector  and  Sir  Kay  had  stood  upon  one  side. 
And  they  were  greatly  weighed  down  by  sorrow ;  for  it  appeared  to  them 
that  Arthur  had,  of  a  sudden,  been  uplifted  so  far  from  their  estate  that 
they  might  never  hope  to  approach  him  more.  For  now  he  was  of  kingly 
consequence  and  they  but  common  knights.  And,  after  awhile,  Arthur' 
beheld  them  where  they  stood  with  downcast  looks,  whereupon  he  straight- 
way went  to  them  and  took  first  one  and  then  the  other  by  the  hand  and 
kissed  each  upon  the  cheek.  Thereupon  they  were  again  very  glad  at 
being  thus  uplifted  unto  him. 

And  when  Arthur  departed  from  that  place,  great  crowds  of  people  fol- 
lowed after  him  so  that  the  streets  were  altogether  filled  with  the  press  of 
people.  And  the  multitude  continually  gave  him  loud  acclaim  as  the  chosen 
King  of  England,  and  those  who  were  nearest  to  him  sought  to  touch  the 
hem  of  his  garments ;  wherefore  the  heart  of  Arthur  was  exceedingly 


ARTHUR  IS  BELOVED    OF  ALL 


35 


uplifted  with  great  joy  and  gladness,  so  that  his  soul  took  wing  and  flew 
like  a  bird  into  the  sky. 

Thus  Arthur  achieved  the  adventure  of  the  sword  that  day  and  entered 
into  his  birthright  of  royalty.  Wherefore,  may  God  grant  His  Grace  unto 
you  all  that  ye  too  may  likewise  succeed  in  your  undertakings.  For  any 
man  may  be  a  king  in  that  life  in  which  he  is  placed  if  so  be  he  may  draw 
forth  the  sword  of  success  from  out  of  the  iron  of  circumstance.  Where- 
fore when  your  time  of  assay  cometh,  I  do  hope  it  may  be  with  you  as  it 
was  with  Arthur  that  day,  and  that  ye  too  may  achieve  success  with 
entire  satisfaction  unto  yourself  and  to  your  great  glory  and  perfect 
happiness.  Amen. 


CONCLUSION 

Now  after  these  things  had  happened  there  was  much  talk  among  men 
and  great  confusion  and  tumult.  For  while  some  of  the  kings  and  nearly 
all  the  multitude  said,  "  Lo !  here  is  a  king  come  to  us,  as  it  were,  from 
out  of  Heaven  for  to  bring  peace  unto  our  distracted  land,"  yet  other 
kings  (and  they  were  of  greater  number)  said,  "  Who  is  this  beardless  boy 
who  cometh  with  a  claim  to  be  High  King  of  Britain?  Who  ever  heard 
of  him  before?  We  will  have  none  of  him  except  upon  further  trial  and 
upon  greater  avouchment."  So,  for  the  sake  of  peace,  the  Archbishop 
ordained  that  another  assay  of  the  sword  should  be  made  at  Candlemas; 
,  .,  and  here  again  all  those  who  endeavored  to  draw  forth  the 

Arthur  maketh  & 

sundry  other  sword  failed  thereat,  but  Arthur  drew  it  forth  several  times, 
"wTd  and*™-  veTT  easilj>  in  the  sight  of  all.  And  after  that  a  third  trial 
feeds  at  all  was  made  at  Easter  and  after  that  a  fourth  trial  was  made  at 
Pentecost.  And  at  all  these  trials  Arthur  repeatedly  drew 
out  the  sword  from  the  anvil,  and  no  one  but  he  could  draw  it  forth. 

And,  after  that  fourth  trial,  sundry  of  the  kings  and  many  of  the  lesser 
barons  and  knights  and  all  of  the  commons  cried  out  that  these  were  trials 
enough,  and  that  Arthur  had  assuredly  approved  himself  to  be  rightwise 
King;  wherefore  they  demanded  that  he  should  be  made  King  indeed  so 
that  he  might  rule  over  them.  For  it  had  come  to  pass  that  whitherso- 
Arthur  is  ever  Arthur  went  great  crowds  followed  after  him  hailing 
crowned  King  him  as  the  true  son  of  Uther-Pendragon,  and  rightwise  over- 
of  Britain.  lord  ^  Britain>  Wherefore,  the  Archbishop  (seeing  how  the 
people  loved  Arthur  and  how  greatly  they  desired  him  for  their  King) 
ordained  that  he  should  be  anointed  and  crowned  unto  royal  estate ;  and 
so  it  was  done  at  the  great  Cathedral.  And  some  say  that  that  Cathedral' 
was  St.  Paul's  and  some  say  that  it  was  not. 

But  when  Arthur  had  thus  been  crowned,  all  those  who  were  opposed 

unto  his  Kingship  withdrew  themselves  in  great  anger,  and  immediately 

set  about  to  prepare  war  against  him.     But  the  people  were  with  Arthur 

and  joined  with  him,  and  so  also  did  several  Kings  and  many 

Arthur  over'  ,     . J      .  it.,  i          «,i        i  -i     •  r 

cometh  his          of  the  lesser  barons  and  knights.     And,  with  the  advice  ot 
enemies.  Merlin,  Arthur  made  friends  and  allies  of  sundry  other  kings, 

and  they  and  he  fought  two  great  wars  with  his  enemies  and  won  both  of 
these  wars.     And  in  the  second  war  was  fought  a  very  famous  battle  nigh 


CONCLUSION  _, 

37 

to  the  Forest  of  Bedegraine  (wherefore  it  was  called  the  Battle  of  Bede- 
graine),  and  in  that  battle  Arthur  overthrew  his  enemies  so  entirely  that 
it  was  not  possible  for  them  ever  to  hope  to  unite  in  war  against  him  again. 

And  of  King  Lot,  his  brother-in-law,  King  Arthur  brought  two  of  his 
sons  to  Court  for  to  dwell  there  and  to  serve  as  hostages  of  peace  there- 
after. And  these  two  were  Gawaine  and  Geharris  and  they  became,  after 
awhile,  very  famous  and  accomplished  knights.  And  of  King  Urien,  his 
other  brother-in-law,  Arthur  brought  unto  Court  his  one  son,  Ewaine,'  for 
to  hold  as  an  hostage  of  peace ;  and  he  also  became  in  time  a  very  famous 
and  accomplished  knight.  And  because  of  these  hostages 
there  was  peace  thereafter  betwixt  those  three  kingly  brothers 
for  all  time.  And  a  certain  very  famous  king  and  knight court- 
hight  King  Pellinore  (who  was  one  of  his  enemies)  Arthur  drove  out  of 
his  possessions  and  away  from  the  habitations  of  men  and  into  the  forest. 
And  King  Ryence  (who  was  another  of  his  enemies)  he  drave  into  the 
mountains  of  North  Wales.  And  other  kings  who  were  his  enemies  he 
subjugated  to  his  will,  so  that  all  the  land  was  at  such  peace  that  it  had 
not  enjoyed  the  like  since  the  days  of  Uther-Pendragon. 

And  King  Arthur  made  Sir  Kay  his  Seneschal  as  he  had  promised  to 
do;  and  he  made  Sir  Ulfius  his  Chamberlain;  and  Merlin  he  made  his 
Counsellor;  and  Sir  Bod  wain  of  Britain  he  made  his  Constable.  And 
these  men  were  all  of  such  a  sort  as  greatly  enhanced  the  glory  and  re- 
nown of  his  reign  and  established  him  upon  his  throne  with  entire 
security. 

Now  when  the  reign  of  King  Arthur  became  thus  entirely  established, 
and  when  the  renown  of  his  greatness  began  to  be  known  in  the  world, 
many  men  of  noble  souls  and  of  large  spirit  and  of  high  knightly  prowess — 
knights  who  desired  above  all  things  to  achieve  glory  at  arms  in  Courts  of 
Chivalry — perceived  that  great  credit  and  exaltation  of  estate  were  likely 
to  be  won  under  such  a  king.  So  it  fell  out  that,  from  all  parts,  by  little 
and  little,  there  began  to  gather  together  such  a  C  ourt  of  noble,  honorable 
knights  about  King  Arthur  as  men  never  beheld  before  that  time,  and 
shall  haply  never  behold  again. 

For  even  to  this  day  the  history  of  these  good  knights  is  known  to  the 
greater  part  of  mankind.  Yea;  the  names  of  many  kings  and  emperors 
have  passed  away  and  have  been  forgotten,  but  the  names  of  Sir  Galahad, 
and  of  Sir  Launcelot  of  the  Lake,  and  of  Sir  Tristram  of  Lyonesse,  and  of 
Sir  Percival  of  Gales,  and  of  Sir  Gawaine,  and  of  Sir  Ewaine,  and  of  Sir 
Bors  de  Ganis,  and  of  many  others  of  that  noble  household  of  worthy 
brotherhood,  is  still  remembered  by  men.  Wherefore,  I  think  that  it  is 


38  CONCLUSION 

very  likely  that  so  long  as  words  shall  be  written,  the  performances  of 
these  worthies  shall  be  remembered. 

So  in  this  history  yet  to  be  written,  I  have  set  it  for  my  task  to  inform 
him  who  reads  this  book  of  many  of  these  adventures,  telling  him,  besides, 
such  several  circumstances  as  I  do  not  believe  are  known  unto  everybody. 
And  by  and  by,  when  I  shall  tell  of  the  establishment  of  the  Round  Table, 
I  shall  set  forth  a  tabulated  list  of  a  number  of  those  worthies  who  at  this 
time  assembled  at  the  Court  of  Arthur  as  men  chosen  to  found  that  order 
of  the  Round  Table,  and  who,  for  that  reason,  were  entitled  "  The  Ancient 
and  Honorable  Companions  of  the  Round  Table." 

For  though  this  entire  history  chiefly  concerneth  King  Arthur,  yet  the 
glory  of  these  great  honorable  knights  was  his  glory,  and  his  glory  was 
their  glory,  wherefore  one  cannot  tell  of  the  glory  of  King  Arthur  without 
also  telling  of  the  glory  of  those  noble  gentlemen  aforesaid. 


PART   II 
The  Winning  of  a  Sword 


TTERE  beginneth  the  story  of  certain  adventures  of  Arthur  after  that  he 
had  become  King,  wherein  it  is  told  how,  with  great  knightly  courage  and 
prowess,  he  fought  a  very  fierce  and  bloodly  battle  with  a  certain  Sable  Knight. 
Likewise,  it  is  told  how  he  achieved,  in  consequence  of  that  battle,  a  certain 
Sword  so  famous  and  glorious  that  its  renown  shall  last  as  long  as  our  speech 
shall  be  spoken.  For  the  like  of  that  sword  was  never  seen  in  all  the  world  be- 
fore that  time,  and  it  hath  never  been  beheld  since  then  ;  and  its  name  was 
Excalibur. 

So,  if  it  please  you  to  read  this  story,  I  believe  it  will  afford  you  excellent  enter- 
tainment, and  will,  without  doubt,  greatly  exalt  your  spirit  because  of  the  remark- 
able courage  which  those  two  famous  and  worthy  knights  displayed  when  they 
fought  together  that  famous  battle.  Likewise  you  shall  find  great  cheer  in  read- 
ing therein  of  the  wonderful  marvellousness  of  a  certain  land  of  Faerie  into 
wliich  King  Arthur  wandered,  and  where  he  found  a  Lake  of  Enchantment 
and  held  converse  with  a  mild  and  beautiful  lady  of  that  land  who  directed 
him  how  to  obtain  that  renowned  sword  aforementioned. 

For  it  hath  given  me  such  pleasure  to  write  these  things  that  my  heart  would, 
at  times,  be  diluted  as  with  a  pure  joy,  wherefore,  I  entertain  great  hopes  that 
you  also  may  find  much  pleasure  in  them  as  I  have  already  done.  So  I  pray 
you  to  listen  unto  what  follows. 


%  Valley  of  Delight 


Chapter  First. 


How  There  Came  a  Certain  Wounded  Knight  Unto  the  Court  of 
King  Arth^lr,  How  a  Young  Kinght  of  the  Kings  Court 
Sought  To  Avenge  Him  and  Failed  and  How  the  King  There- 
upon Took  That  Assay  Upon  Himself. 

NOW  it  fell  upon  a  certain  pleasant  time  in  the  Springtide  season 
that  King  Arthur  and  his  Court  were  making  a  royal  progres- 
sion through  that  part  of  Britain  which  lieth  close 

to  the  Forests  of  the  Usk.     At  that  time  the  weather  was  ex-  th™.- aHded  in 
ceedingly  warm,  and  so  the  King  and  Court  made  pause  with-   %££"**& 
in  the  forest  under  the  trees  in  the  cool  and  pleasant  shade 
that  the  place  afforded,  and  there  the  King  rested  for  a  while  upon  a  couch 
of  rushes  spread  with  scarlet  cloth. 

And  the  knights  then  present  at  that  Court  were,  Sir  Gawaine,  and  Sir 


42  THE    WINNING    OF  A    SWORD 

Ewaine,  and  Sir  Kay,  and  Sir  Pellias,  and  Sir  Bedevere,  and  Sir  Caradoc, 
and  Sir  Geraint,  and  Sir  Bodwin  of  Britain  and  Sir  Constantine  of  Corn- 
wall, and  Sir  Brandiles  and  Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte,  and  there  was  not  to 
be  found  anywhere  in  the  world  a  company  of  such  noble  and  exalted 
knights  as  these. 

Now  as  the  King  lay  drowsing  and  as  these  worthies  sat  holding 
cheerful  converse  together  at  that  place,  there  came,  of  a  sudden,  a  con- 
siderable bustle  and  stir  upon  the  outskirts  of  the  Court,  and  presently 
there  appeared  a  very  sad  and  woful  sight.  For  there  came  thither- 
ward a  knight,  sore  wounded,  and  upheld  upon  his  horse  by  a  golden- 
haired  page,  clad  in  an  apparel  of  white  and  azure.  And,  likewise,  the 
knight's  apparel  and  the  trappings  of  his  horse  were  of  white  and  azure, 
and  upon  his  shield  he  bore  the  emblazonment  of  a  single  lily  flower  of 
silver  upon  a  ground  of  pure  azure. 

But  the  knight  was  in  a  very  woful  plight.      For  his  face  was  as  pale  as 

wax  and  hung  down  upon  his  breast.      And  his  eyes  were  glazed  and  saw 

,    naught  that  passed  around  him,  and  his  fair  apparel  of  white 

How  the  wound- 
ed knight  cometh  and  blue  was  all  red  with  the  blood  of  life  that  ran  from  a 
into  the  forest.     greaj-  WOund  in  his  side.   And,  as  they  came  upon  their  way, 
the  young  page  lamented  in  such  wise  that  it  wrung  the  heart  for  to  hear  him. 

Now,  as  these  approached,  King  Arthur  aroused  cried  out,"  Alas !  what 
doleful  spectacle  is  that  which  I  behold  ?  Now  hasten,  ye  my  lords,  and 
bring  succor  to  yonder  knight ;  and  do  thou,  Sir  Kay,  go  quickly  and 
bring  that  fair  young  page  hither  that  we  may  presently  hear  from  his 
lips  what  mishap  hath  befallen  his  lord." 

So  certain  of  those  knights  hastened  at  the  King's  bidding  and  gave  all 
succor  to  the  wounded  knight,  and  conveyed  him  to  King  Arthur's  own 
pavilion,  which  had  been  pitched  at  a  little  distance.  And  when  he  had 
come  there  the  King's  chirurgeon  presently  attended  upon  him — albeit  his 
wounds  were  of  such  a  sort  he  might  not  hope  to  live  for  a  very  long  while. 

Meantime,  Sir  Kay  brought  that  fair  young  page  before  the  King; 
where  he  sat,  and  the  King  thought  that  he  had  hardly  ever  seen  a  more 
beautiful  countenance.  And  the  King  said,  "  I  prithee  tell  me,  Sir  Page, 
who  is  thy  master,  and  how  came  he  in  such  a  sad  and  pitiable  condition  as 
that  which  we  have  just  now  beheld." 

"  That  will   I   so,   Lord,"    said  the   youth.     "  Know  that  my  master  is 

entitled  Sir  Myles  of  the  White  Fountain,  and  that  he  cometh  from  the 

,   country  north  of  where  we  are  and  at  a  considerable  distance 

The  page  telleth  • J 

the  story  of  the  from  this.  In  that  country  he  is  the  Lord  of  seven  castles  and 
wounded  knight.  severai  noble  estates,  wherefore,  as  thou  mayst  see,  he  is  of 


THERE    COMETH  A    WOUNDED  KNIGHT  43 

considerable  consequence.  A  fortnight  ago  (being  doubtless  moved 
thereunto  by  the  lustiness  of  the  Springtime),  he  set  forth  with  only  me 
for  his  esquire,  for  he  had  a  mind  to  seek  adventure  in  such  manner  as 
beseemed  a  good  knight  who  would  be  errant.  And  we  had  several  ad- 
ventures, and  in  all  of  them  my  lord  was  entirely  successful  ;  for  he  over- 
came six  knights  at  various  places  and  sent  them  all  to  his  castle  for  to 
attest  his  valor  unto  his  lady. 

"  At  last,  this  morning,  coming  to  a  certain  place  situated  at  a  consider- 
able distance  from  this,  we  came  upon  a  fair  castle  of  the  forest,  which 
stood  in  a  valley  surrounded  by  open  spaces  of  level  lawn,  bedight  with 
many  flowers  of  divers  sorts.  There  we  beheld  three  fair  damsels  who 
tossed  a  golden  ball  from  one  to  another,  and  the  damsels  were  clad  all 
in  flame-colored  satin,  and  their  hair  was  of  the  color  of  gold.  And  as 
we  drew  nigh  to  them  they  stinted  their  play,  and  she  who  was  the  chief 
of  those  damsel  called  out  to  my  lord,  demanding  of  him  whither  he 
went  and  what  was  his  errand. 

"  To  her  my  lord  made  answer  that  he  was  errant  and  in  search  of  ad- 
venture, and  upon  this,  the  three  damsels  laughed,  and  she  who  had 
first  spoken  said,  '  An  thou  art  in  search  of  adventure,  Sir  Knight,  happily 
I  may  be  able  to  help  thee  to  one  that  shall  satisfy  thee  to  thy  heart's  con- 
tent.' 

"  Unto  this  my  master  made  reply  '  I  prithee,  fair  damsel,  tell  me  what 
that  adventure  may  be  so  that  I  may  presently  assay  it.' 

"  Thereupon  this  lady  bade  my  master  to  take  a  certain  path,  and  to  fol- 
low the  same  for  the  distance  of  a  league  or  a  little  more,  and  that  he 
would  then  come  to  a  bridge  of  stone  that  crossed  a  violent  stream,  and 
she  assured  him  that  there  he  might  find  adventure  enough  for  to  satisfy 
any  man. 

"  So  my  master  and  I  wended  thitherward  as  that  damoiselle  had  di- 
rected, and,  by  and  by,  we  came  unto  the  bridge'whereof  she  had  spoken. 
And,  lo!  beyond  the  bridge  was  a  lonesome  castle  with  a  tall  straight 
tower,  and  before  the  castle  was  a  wide  and  level  lawn  of  well-trimmed 
grass.  And  immediately  beyond  the  bridge  was  an  apple-tree  hung  over 
with  a  multitude  of  shields.  And  midway  upon  the  bridge  was  a  single 
shield,  entirely  of  black;  and  beside  it  hung  a  hammer  of  brass;  and 
neath  the  shield  was  written  these  words  in  letters  of  red: 


£)oet() 


"Now,  my  master,  Sir  Myles,  when  he  read  those  words  went  straight- 


44  THE    WINNING    OF  A    SWORD 

way  to  that  shield  and,  seizing  the  hammer  that  hung  beside  it,  he  smote 
upon  it  a  blow  so  that  it  rang  like  thunder. 

"  Thereupon,  as  in  answer,  the  portcullis  of  the  castle  was  let  fall,  and 
there  immediately  came  forth  a  knight,  clad  all  from  head  to  foot  in  sable 
armor.  And  his  apparel  and  the  trappings  of  his  horse  and  all  the  ap- 
pointments thereof  were  likewise  entirely  of  sable. 

"  Now  when  that  Sable  Knight  perceived  my  master  he  came  riding 

swiftly  across  the  meadow  and  so  to  the  other  end  of  the  bridge.     And 

when  he  had  come  there  he  drew  rein  and  saluted  my  master  and  cried  out, 

*  Sir  Knight,  I  demand  of  thee  why  thou  didst  smite  that  shield.     Now  let 

,  me  tell  thee,  because  of  thy  boldness,  I  shall  take  away  from 

The  page  telleth  .  J  .  J 

of  the  Sable  thee  thine  own  shield,  and  shall  hang  it  upon  yonder  apple- 
Knigkt.  tree^  where  thou  beholdest  all  those  other  shields  to  be  hang- 

ing.' Unto  this  my  master  made  reply.  '  That  thou  shalt  not  do  unless  thou 
mayst  overcome  me,  as  knight  to  knight.'  And  thereupon,  immediately, 
he  dressed  his  shield  and  put  himself  into  array  for  an  assault  at  arms. 

"  So  my  master  and  this  Sable  Knight,  having  made  themselves  ready 
for  that  encounter,  presently  drave  together  with  might  and  main.  And 
they  met  in  the  middle  of  the  course,  where  my  master's  spear  burst  into 
splinters.  But  the  spear  of  the  Sable  Knight  held  and  it  pierced  through 
Sir  Myles,  his  shield,  and  it  penetrated  his  side,  so  that  both  he  and  his 
horse  were  overthrown  violently  into  the  dust;  he  being  wounded  so 
grievously  that  he  could  not  arise  again  from  the  ground  whereon  he  lay. 

"  Then  the  Sable  Knight  took  my  master's  shield  and  hung  it  up  in  the 
branches  of  the  apple-tree  where  the  other  shields  were  hanging,  and, 
thereupon,  without  paying  further  heed  to  my  master,  or  inquiring  as  to 
his  hurt,  he  rode  away  into  his  castle  again,  whereof  the  portcullis  was 
immediately  closed  behind  him. 

"  So,  after  that  he  had  gone,  I  got  my  master  to  his  horse  with  great 
labor,  and  straightway  took  him  thence,  not  knowing  where  I  might  find 
harborage  for  him,  until  I  came  to  this  place.  And  that,  my  lord  King, 
is  the  true  story  of  how  my  master  came  by  that  mortal  hurt  which  he 
hath  suffered." 

"  Ha !  By  the  glory  of  Paradise  !  "  cried  King  Arthur,  "  I  do  consider  it 
great  shame  that  in  my  Kingdom  and  so  near  to  my  Court  strangers 
should  be  so  discourteously  treated  as  Sir  Myles  hath  been  served.  For 
it  is  certainly  a  discourtesy  for  to  leave  a  fallen  knight  upon  the  ground, 
without  tarrying  to  inquire  as  to  his  hurt  how  grievous  it  may  be.  And 
still  more  discourteous  is  it  for  to  take  away  the  shield  of  a  fallen  knight 
who  hath  done  good  battle." 


GRIFLET  ASKETH  A  BOON  45 

And  so  did  all  the  knights  of  the  King's  Court  exclaim  against  the  dis. 
courtesy  of  that  Sable  Knight. 

Then  there  came  forth  a  certain  esquire  attendant  upon  the  King's  per- 
son,  by  name  Griflet,  who  was  much  beloved  by  his  Royal    criflet  craveth 
Master,  and  he  kneeled  before  the  King  and  cried  out  in  a   a  boon- 
loud  voice  :   "  I  crave  a  boon  of  thee,  my  lord  King !  and  do  beseech  thee 
that  thou  wilt  grant  it  unto  me!  " 

Then  King  Arthur  uplifted  his  countenance  upon  the  youth  as  he  knelt 
before  him  and  he  said,  "  Ask,  Griflet,  and  thy  boon  shall  be  granted 
unto  thee." 

Thereupon  Griflet  said,  "  It  is  this  that  I  would  ask — I  crave  that 
thou  wilt  make  me  straightway  knight,  and  that  thou  wilt  let  me  go 
forth  and  endeavor  to  punish  this  unkindly  knight,  by  overthrowing  him, 
and  so  redeeming  those  shields  which  he  hath  hung  upon  that  apple- 
tree." 

Then  was  King  Arthur  much  troubled  in  his  spirit,  for  Griflet  was 
as  yet  only  an  esquire  and  altogether  untried  in  arms.  So  he  said, 
"  Behold,  thou  art  yet  too  young  to  have  to  do  with  so  potent  a  knight  as 
this  sable  champion  must  be,  who  has  thus  overthrown  so  many  knights 
without  himself  suffering  any  mishap.  I  prithee,  dear  Griflet,  consider 
and  ask  some  other  boon." 

But  young  Griflet  only  cried  the  more,  "A  boon!  A  boon!  and  thou 
hast  granted  it  unto  me." 

Thereupon  King  Arthur  said,  "Thou  shalt  have  thy  boon,  though 
my  heart  much  misgiveth  me  that  thou  wilt  suffer  great  ill  and  misfortune 
from  this  adventure." 

So  that  night  Griflet  kept  watch  upon  his  armor  in   a  chapel  of  the 
forest,  and,  in  the  morning,  having  received  the  Sacrament,  he  was  created 
a  knight  by  the  hand  of  King  Arthur— and  it  was  not  pos-   King  Arihur 
sible  for  any  knight  to  have  greater  honor  than  that.     Then    makes  Griflet 
King  Arthur  fastened  the  golden  spurs  to  Sir  Griflet's  heels 
with  his  own  hand. 

So  Griflet  was  made  a  knight,  and  having  mounted  his  charger,  he 
rode  straightway  upon  his  adventure,  much  rejoicing  and  singing  for  pure 
pleasure. 

And  it  was  at  this  time  that  Sir  Myles  died  of  his  hurt,  for  it  is  often  so 
that  death  and  misfortune  befall  some,  whiles  others  laugh  and  sing  for 
hope  and  joy,  as  though  such  grievous  things  as  sorrow  and  death  could 
never  happen  in  the  world  wherein  they  live. 

Now  that  afternoon  King  Arthur  sat  waiting  with  great  anxiety  for  word 


46  THE    WINNING   OF  A   SWORD 

of  that  young  knight,  but  there  was  no  word  until  toward  evening,  when 
there  came  hurrying  to  him  certain  of  his  attendants,  proclaiming  that  Sir 
Griflet  was  returning,  but  without  his  shield,  and  in  such  guise  that  it 
seemed  as  though  a  great  misfortune  had  befallen  him.  And  straightway 
thereafter  came  Sir  Griflet  himself,  sustained  upon  his  horse  on  the  one 
hand  by  Sir  Constantine  and  upon  the  other  by  Sir  Brandiles.  And,  lo ! 
Sir  Griflet's  head  hung  down  upon  his  breast,  and  his  fair  new  armor  was 
all  broken  and  stained  with  blood  and  dust.  And  so  woful  was  he  of  ap- 
pearance that  King  Arthur's  heart  was  contracted  with  sorrow  to  behold 
that  young  knight  in  so  pitiable  a  condition. 

So,  at  King  Arthur's  bidding,  they  conducted  Sir  Griflet  to  the  Royal 
Pavilion,  and  there  they  laid  him  down  upon  a  soft  couch.  Then  the 
King's  chirurgeon  searched  his  wounds  and  found  that  the  head  of  a  spear 
and  a  part  of  the  shaft  thereof  were  still  piercing  Sir  Griflet's  side,  so  that 
he  was  in  most  woful  and  grievous  pain. 

And  when  King  Arthur  beheld  in  what  a  parlous  state  Sir  Griflet  lay  he 
cried  out,  "  Alas !  my  dear  young  knight,  what  hath  happened  thee  to 
bring  thee  unto  such  a  woful  condition  as  this  which  I  behold?" 

Then  Sir  Griflet,  speaking  in  a  very  weak  voice,  told  King  Arthur  how  he 

had  fared.     And  he  said  that  he  had  proceeded  through  the  forest,  until 

he  had  discovered  the  three  beautiful  damsels  whereof  the  page  of  Sir 

Myles  had  spoken.     And  he  said  that  these  damsels  had  di- 

Sir  Griflet  tell-         J       ...         r 

eth  how  he  rected  him  as  to  the  manner  in  which  he  should  pursue  his 
was  hurt.  adventure.  And  he  said  that  he  had  found  the  bridge 

whereon  hung  the  shield  and  the  brazen  mall,  and  that  he  had  there 
beheld  the  apple-tree  hung  full  of  shields ;  and  he  said  that  he  smote  the 
shield  of  the  Sable  Knight  with  the  brazen  mall,  and  that  the  Sable  Knight 
had  thereupon  come  riding  out  against  him.  And  he  said  that  this 
knight  did  not  appear  of  a  mind  to  fight  with  him  ;  instead,  he  cried  out 
to  him  with  a  great  deal  of  nobleness  that  he  was  too  young  and  too 
untried  in  arms  to  have  to  do  with  a  seasoned  knight ;  wherefore  'he 
advised  Sir  Griflet  to  withdraw  him  from  that  adventure  ere  it  was  too 
late.  But,  notwithstanding  this  advice,  Sir  Griflet  would  not  withdraw 
but  declared  that  he  would  certainly  have  to  do  with  that  other  knight  in 
sable.  Now  at  the  very  first  onset  Sir  Griflet's  spear  had  burst  into 
pieces,  but  the  spear  of  the  Sable  Knight  had  held  and  had  pierced 
through  Sir  Griflet's  shield  and  into  his  side,  causing  him  this  grievous 
wound  whereof  he  suffered.  And  Sir  Griflet  said  that  the  Sable  Knight 
had  then,  most  courteously,  uplifted  him  upon  his  horse  again  (albeit  he 
had  kept  Sir  Griflet's  shield  and  had  hung  it  upon  the  tree  with  those 


SIX    GRIFLET  IS    WOUNDED  4? 

others  that  hung  there)  and  had  then  directed  him  upon  his  way,  so  that 
he  had  made  shift  to  ride  thither,  though  with  great  pain  and  dole. 

Then  was  King  Arthur  very  wode  and  greatly  disturbed  in  his  mind  for 
indeed  he  loved  Sir  Griflet  exceedingly  well.     Wherefore  he  declared  that 
he  himself  would  now  go  forth  for  to  punish   that   Sable   Knight,  and 
for   to   humble   him    with  his  own  hand.     And,  though  the 
knights  of  his   Court  strove   to   dissuade  him  from  that  ad-    ?ing  Arthur 
venture,  yet  he  declared  that  he  with  his  own   hand  would 
accomplish  that  proud  knight's  humiliation,  and  that  he  would  undertake 
the  adventure,  with  God  His  Grace,  upon  the  very  next  day. 

And  so  disturbed  was  he  that  he  could  scarce  eat  his  food  that  evening 
for  vexation,  nor  would  he  go  to  his  couch  to  sleep,  but,  having  inquired 
very  narrowly  of  Sir  Griflet  where  he  might  find  that  valley  of  flowers 
and  those  three  damsels,  he  spent  the  night  in  walking  up  and  down  his 
pavilion,  awaiting  for  the  dawning  of  the  day. 

Now,  as  soon  as  the  birds  first  began  to  chirp  and  the  east  to  brighten 
with  the  coming  of  the  daylight,  King  Arthur  summoned  his  two  esquires, 
and,  having  with  their  aid  donned  his  armor  and  mounted  a  milk-white 
war-horse,  he  presently  took  his  departure  upon  that  adventure  which  he 
had  determined  upon. 

And,  indeed  it  is  a  very  pleasant  thing  for  to  ride  forth  in  the  dawning 
of  a  Springtime  day.     For  then  the  little  birds  do  sing  their  sweetest  song, 
all  joining  in  one  joyous   medley,  whereof  one  may  scarce  tell  one  note 
from  another,  so  multitudinous  is  that  pretty  roundelay  ;  then  do  the  grow- 
ing  things   of  the  earth  smell  the  sweetest  in  the  freshness    Kin  Arthur 
of  the  early  daytime — the   fair  flowers,  the  shrubs,  and  the    sets  forth  upon 
blossoms  upon   the  trees;  then  doth  the  dew   bespangle  all   *** advent™. 
the  sward  as  with  an  incredible  multitude  of  jewels  of  various  colors ; 
then  is  all  the  world  sweet  and  clean  and  new,  as  though  it  had  been  fresh 
created  for  him  who  came  to  roam  abroad  so  early  in  the  morning. 

So  King  Arthur's  heart  expanded  with  great  joy,  and  he  chanted  a 
quaint  song  as  he  rode  through  the  forest  upon  the  quest  of  that  knightly 
adventure. 

So,  about  noon-tide,  he  came  to  that  part  of  the  forest  lands  whereof  he 
had  heard  those  several  times  before.  For  of  a  sudden,  he  discovered  be- 
fore him  a  wide  and  gently  sloping  valley,  a-down  which  ran  Arthur 
a  stream  as  bright  as  silver.  And,  lo  !  the  valley  was  strewn  cometh  to  the 
all  over  with  an  infinite  multitude  of  fair  and  fragrant  flowers  **&?  of  De- 
vi divers  sorts.  And  in  the  midst  of  the  valley  there  stood  a 
comely  castle,  with  tall  red  roofs  and  many  bright  windows,  so  that  it 


48  THE    WINNING    OF  A    SWORD 

seemed  to  King  Arthur  that  it  was  a  very  fine  castle  indeed.  And  upon 
a  smooth  green  lawn  he  perceived  those  three  damoiselles  clad  in  flame- 
colored  satin  of  whom  the  page  of  Sir  Myles  and  Sir  Griflet  had  spoken. 
And  they  played  at  ball  with  a  golden  ball,  and  the  hair  of  each  was  of  the 
hue  of  gold,  and  it  seemed  to  King  Arthur,  as  he  drew  nigh,  that  they 
were  the  most  beautiful  damoiselles  that  he  had  ever  beheld  in  all  of  his 
life. 

Now  as  King  Arthur  came  unto  them  the  three  ceased  tossing  the  ball, 
and  she  who  was  the  fairest  of  all  damoiselles  demanded  of  him  whither 
he  went  and  upon  what  errand  he  was  bound. 

Then  King  Arthur  made  reply  :  "  Ha !  fair  lady !  whither  should  a 
belted  knight  ride  upon  such  a  day  as  this,  and  upon  what  business,  other 
than  the  search  of  adventure  such  as  beseemeth  a  knight  of  a  proper 
strength  of  heart  and  frame  who  would  be  errant?  " 

Then  the  three  damoiselles  smiled  upon  the  King,  for  he  was  exceed- 
ingly comely  of  face  and  they  liked  him  very  well.  "  Alas,  Sir  Knight !  " 
said  she  who  had  before  spoken,  "  I  prithee  be  in  no  such  haste  to  under- 
take a  dangerous  adventure,  but  rather  tarry  with  us  for  a  day 

The    damoi-  s  ,  .  .  J  .  .  ^  J 

selies  greet  or  two  or  three,  for  to  feast  and  make  merry  with  us.  ror 
King  Arthur.  sureiy  good  cheer  doth  greatly  enlarge  the  heart,  and  we 
would  fain  enjoy  the  company  of  so  gallant  a  knight  as  thou  appearest  to 
be.  Yonder  castle  is  ours  and  all  this  gay  valley  is  ours,  and  those  who 
have  visited  it  are  pleased,  because  of  its  joyousness,to  call  it  the  Valley  of 
Delight.  So  tarry  with  us  for  a  little  and  be  not  in  such  haste  to  go  for- 
ward." 

"  Nay,"  said  King  Arthur,"  I  may  not  tarry  with  ye,  fair  ladies,  for  I  am 
bent  upon  an  adventure  of  which  ye  may  wot  right  well,  when  I  tell  ye 
that  I  seek  that  Sable  Knight,  who  hath  overcome  so  many  other  knights 
and  hath  taken  away  their  shields.  So  I  do  pray  ye  of  your  grace  for  to 
tell  me  where  I  may  find  him." 

"  Grace  of  Heaven !  "  cried  she  who  spake  for  the  others,  "  this  is  cer- 
tainly a  sorry  adventure  which  ye  seek,  Sir  Knight!  For  already,  in  these 
two  days,  have  two  knights  assayed  with  that  knight,  and  both  have 
fallen  into  great  pain  and  disregard.  Ne'theless,  an  thou  wilt  undertake 
this  peril,  yet  shalt  thou  not  go  until  thou  hast  eaten  and  refreshed  thy- 
self." So  saying,  she  lifted  a  little  ivory  whistle  that  hung  from  her  neck 
by  a  chain  of  gold,  and  blew  upon  it  very  shrilly. 

In  answer  to  this  summons  there  came  forth  from  the  castle  three  fair 
young  pages,  clad  all  in  flame-colored  raiment,  bearing  among  them  a 
silver  table  covered  with  a  white  napkin.  And  after  them  came  five  other 


THE    VALLEY  OF  DELIGHT  49 

pages  of  the  same  appearance,  bearing  flagons  of  white  wine  and  red,  dried 
fruits  and  comfits  and  manchets  of  white  fair  bread. 

Then  King  Arthur  descended  from  his  war-horse  with  great  gladness, 
for  he  was  both  hungry  and  athirst,  and,  seating  himself  at  the  table  with 
the  damsels  beside   him,  he   ate  with  great  enjoyment,  dis- 
coursing pleasantly  the   while   with   those   fair  ladies,   who  ^a£gand drinks 
listened  to  him   with   great   cheerfulness  of   spirit.      Yet  he  in  l^e  Valley  °f 
told  them  not   who  he  was,  though   they  greatly  marvelled 
who  might  be  the  noble  warrior  who  had  come  thus  into  that  place. 

So,  having  satisfied  his  hunger  and  his  thirst,  King  Arthur  mounted  his 
steed  again,  and  the  three  damsels  conducted  him  across  the  valley  a  little 
way — he  riding  upon  his  horse  and  they  walking  beside  him.  So,  by  and 
by,  he  perceived  where  was  a  dark  pathway  that  led  into  the  farther  side 
of  the  forest  land ;  and  when  he  had  come  thither  the  lady  who  had  ad- 
dressed him  before  said  to  him,  "  Yonder  is  the  way  that  thou  must  take 
an  thou  wouldst  enter  upon  this  adventure.  So  fare  thee  well,  and  may 
good  hap  go  with  thee,  for,  certes,  thou  art  the  Knight  most  pleasant  of 
address  who  hath  come  hitherward  for  this  long  time." 

Thereupon  King  Arthur,  having  saluted  those  ladies  right  courteously, 
rode  away  with  very  great  joy  of  that  pleasant  adventure  through  which 
he  had  thus  passed. 

Now  when  King  Arthur  had  gone  some  ways  he  came,  by  and  by,  to  a 
certain  place  where  charcoal  burners  plied  their  trade.  For  here  were 
many  mounds  of  earth,  all  a-smoke  with  the  smouldering  logs  within, 
whilst  all  the  air  was  filled  with  the  smell  of  the  dampened  fires. 

As  the  King  approached  this  spot,  he  presently  beheld  that  something 
was  toward  that  was  sadly  amiss.  For,  in  the  open  clearing,  he  beheld 
three  sooty  fellows  with  long  knives  in  their  hands,  who  pursued  one  old 
man,  whose  beard  was  as  white  as  snow.  And  he  beheld  that  the  rev- 
erend old  man,  who  was  clad  richly  in  black,  and  whose  horse  stood  at  a 
little  distance,  was  running  hither  and  thither,  as  though  to  escape 
from  those  wicked  men,  and  he  appeared  to  be  very  hard  pressed  and  in 
great  danger  of  his  life. 

"  Pardee ! "  quoth  the  young  King  to  himself,  "  here,  certes,  is  one  in 
sore  need  of  succor."     Whereupon  he  cried  out  in  a  great  voice,  "Hold, 
villains!     What  would  you  be  at !  "  and  'therewith  set  spurs  to  his  hors< 
and  dropped  his  spear  into  rest  and  drove  down  upon  them  with  a  noi 
like  to  thunder  for  loudness. 

But  when  the  three  wicked  fellows  beheld  the  armed  Knight  thus  thun- 


5o  THE    WINNING    OF  A    SWORD 

dering  down  upon  them,  they  straightway  dropped  their  knives  and,  with 
loud  outcries  of  fear,  ran  away  hither  and  thither  until  they  had  escaped 
into  the  thickets  of  the  forest,  where  one  upon  a  horse  might  not  hope  to 
piursue  them. 

Whereupon,  having  driven  away  those  wicked  fellows,  King  Arthur  rode 
up  to  him  whom  he  had  succored,  thinking  to  offer  him  condolence.     And 
behold  !  when  he  had  come  nigh  to  him,  he  perceived  that  the 
Merlin    old  man  was  the  Enchanter  Merlin.'    Yet  whence  he  had  so 


from  the  three  suddenly  come,  who  had  only  a  little  while  before  been  at  the 
King's  Court  at  Carleon,  and  what  he  did  in  that  place,  the 
King  could  in  no  wise  understand.  Wherefore  he  bespoke  the  Enchanter 
in  this  wise,  "  Ha  !  Merlin,  it  seemeth  to  me  that  I  have  saved  thy  life. 
For,  surely,  thou  hadst  not  escaped  from  the  hands  of  those  wicked  men 
had  I  not  happened  to  come  hitherward  at  this  time." 

"  Dost  thou  think  so,  Lord?"  said  Merlin.  "  Now  let  me  tell  thee  that  I 
did  maybe  appear  to  be  in  danger,  yet  I  might  have  saved  myself  very 
easily  had  I  been  of  a  mind  to  do  so.  But,  as  thou  sawst  me  in  this  seem- 
ing peril,  so  may  thou  know  that  a  real  peril,  far  greater  than  this,  lieth 
before  thee,  and  there  will  be  no  errant  knight  to  succor  thee  from  it. 
Wherefore,  I  pray  thee,  Lord,  for  to  take  me  with  thee  upon  this  advent- 
ure that  thou  art  set  upon,  for  I  do  tell  thee  that  thou  shalt  certainly  suf- 
fer great  dole  and  pain  therein." 

"  Merlin,"  said  King  Arthur,  "  even  an  I  were  to  face  my  death,  yet 
would  I  not  turn  back  from  this  adventure.  But  touching  the  advice  thou 
givest  me,  meseems  it  will  be  very  well  to  take  thee  with  me  if  such  peril 
lieth  before  me  as  thou  sayest" 

And  Merlin  said,  "  Yea,  it  would  be  very  well  for  thee  to  do  so." 

So  Merlin  mounted  upon  his  palfrey,  and  King  Arthur  and  he  betook 
their  way  from  that  place  in  pursuit  of  that  adventure  which  the  King  had 
undertaken  to  perform. 


^e  Battle  wify  %  Sable* 
Knigijt, 


Chapter  Second. 

How  King  Arthur  Fought  With  the  Sable  Knight  and  How  He 
Was  Sorely  Wounded.  Likewise  How  Merlin  Brought  Him  Safe 
Away  From  the  Field  of  Battle. 

SO  King  Arthur  and  Merlin  rode  together  through  the  forest  for  a 
considerable  while,  until  they  perceived  that  they   must  be   ap- 
proaching nigh  to  the  place  where  dwelt  the  Sable  Knight  whom 
the  King  sought  so  diligently.       For  the  forest,  which  had  till  then  been 
altogether  a  wilderness,  very  deep  and  mossy,  began  to  show  an  aspect 
more  thin  and  open,  as  though  a  dwelling-place  of  mankind  was  close  at 
hand. 

And,  after  a  little,  they  beheld  before  them  a  violent  stream  of  water, 
that  rushed  through  a  dark  and  dismal  glen.  And,  likewise,  they  per- 
ceived that  across  this  stream  of  water  there  was  a  bridge  of  stone,  and 
that  upon  the  other  side  of  the  bridge  there  was  a  smooth  and  level 
lawn  of  green  grass,  whereon  Knights-contestants  might  joust  very  well. 
And  beyond  this  lawn  they  beheld  a  tall  and  forbidding  castle,  with 
smooth  walls  and  a  straight  tower;  and  this  castle  was  built  upon  the 
rocks  so  that  it  appeared  to  be  altogether  a  part  of  the  stone.  So  they 
wist  that  this  must  be  the  castle  whereof  the  page  and  Sir  Griflet  had 
spoken. 

For,   midway  upon  the  bridge,  they  beheld  that  there   hung  a  sable 
shield  and  a  brass  mall  exactly  as  the  page  and  Sir  Griflet  had  said;  and 
that  upon  the  farther  side  of  the   stream  was  an  apple-tree,  amid  the 
leaves   of   which   hung   a   very  great  many   shields  of   various  devices, 
exactly   as   those   two   had   reported:  and  they  beheld  that    King Arthur 
some  of   those  shields  were   clean   and  fair,  and   that  some   cometh  to  the 
were    foul    and    stained    with    blood,    and    that    some    were   Jg^JJ^' 
smooth  and  unbroken,  and  that  some  were  cleft  as   though 
by  battle  of  knight  with  knight.     And  all  those  shields  were  the  shields 
of  different  knights  whom  the  Sable  Knight,  who  dwelt  within  the  castle, 
had  overthrown  in  combat  with  his  own  hand. 


54  THE    WINNING   OF  A   SWORD 

"  Splendor  of  Paradise  !  "  quoth  King  Arthur,  "  that  must,  indeed,  be  a 
right  valiant  knight  who,  with  his  own  single  strength,  hath  overthrown 
and  cast  down  so  many  other  knights.  For,  indeed,  Merlin,  there  must 
be  an  hundred  shields  hanging  in  yonder  tree  !" 

Unto  this  Merlin  made  reply,  "  And  thou,  Lord,  mayst  be  very  happy 
an  thy  shield,  too,  hangeth  not  there  ere  the  sun  goeth  down  this 
even-tide." 

"  That,"  said  King  Arthur,  with  a  very  steadfast  countenance,  "  shall  be 
as  God  willeth.  For,  certes,  I  have  a  greater  mind  than  ever  for  to  try  my 
power  against  yonder  knight.  For,  consider,  what  especial  honor  would 
fall  to  me  should  I  overcome  so  valiant  a  warrior  as  this  same  Sable 
Champion  appeareth  to  be,  seeing  that  he  hath  been  victorious  over  so 
many  other  good  knights." 

Thereupon,  having  so  spoken  his  mind,  King  Arthur  immediately 
pushed  forward  his  horse  and  so,  coming  upon  the  bridge,  he  clearly  read 
that  challenge  writ  in  letters  of  red  beneath  the  shield  : 

Wbwo  Smitetb  C&tfi 


Upon  reading  these  words,  the  King  seized  the  brazen  mall,  and  smote 
that  shield  so  violent  a  blow  that  the  sound  thereof  echoed 

King  Arthur 

challenges  the  back  from  the  smooth  walls  of  the  castle,  and  from  the  rocks 
Sable  Knight.  whereon  it  stood,  and  from  the  skirts  of  the  forest  around 
about,  as  though  twelve  other  shields  had  been  struck  in  those  several 
places. 

And  in  answer  to  that  sound,  the  portcullis  of  the  castle  was  immedi- 
ately let  fall,  and  there  issued  forth  a  knight,  very  huge  of  frame,  and 
clad  all  in  sable  armor.  And,  likewise,  all  of  his  apparel  and  all  the 
trappings  of  his  horse  were  entirely  of  sable,  so  that  he  presented  a  most 
grim  and  forbidding  aspect.  And  this  Sable  Knight  came  across  that- 
level  meadow  of  smooth  grass  with  a  very  stately  and  honorable  gait  ;  for 
neither  did  he  ride  in  haste,  nor  did  he  ride  slowly,  but  with  great  pride 
and  haughtiness  of  mien,  as  became  a  champion  who,  haply,  had  never  yet 
been  overcome  in  battle.  So,  reaching  the  bridge-head,  he  drew  rein  and 
saluted  King  Arthur  with  great  dignity,  and  also  right  haughtily.  "  Ha  ! 
Sir  Knight!"  quoth  he,  "why  didst  thou,  having  read  those  words  yonder 
inscribed,  smite  upon  my  shield  ?  Now  I  do  tell  thee  that,  for  thy  dis- 
courtesy, I  shall  presently  take  thy  shield  away  from  thee,  and  shall  hang 
it  up  upon  yonder  apple-tree  where  thou  beholdest  all  those  other  shields 


KING  ARTHUR  ENCOUNTERS   THE   SABLE  KNIGHT         55 

to  be  hanging.  Wherefore,  either  deliver  thou  thy  shield  unto  me  with- 
out more  ado  or  else  prepare  for  to  defend  it  with  thy  person— in  the 
which  event  thou  shalt  certainly  suffer  great  pain  and  discomfort  to  thy 
body." 

"  Gramercy  for  the  choice  thou  grantest  me,"  said  King  Arthur. 
"  But  as  for  taking  away  my  shield — I  do  believe  that  that  shall  be  as 
Heaven  willeth,  and  not  as  thou  wiliest.  Know,  thou  unkind  knight,  that 
I  have  come  hither  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  do  battle  with  thee  and 
so  to  endeavor  for  to  redeem  with  my  person  all  those  shields  that  hang 
yonder  upon  that  apple-tree.  So  make  thou  ready  straightway  that  I  may 
have  to  do  with  thee,  maybe  to  thy  great  disadvantage." 

"  That  will  I  so,"  replied  the  Sable  Knight.  And  thereupon  he  turned 
his  horse's  head  and,  riding  back  a  certain  distance  across  the  level  lawn, 
he  took  stand  in  such  place  as  appeared  to  him  to  be  convenient.  And 
so  did  King  Arthur  ride  forth  also  upon  that  lawn,  and  take  his  station  as 
seemed  to  him  to  be  convenient. 

Then  each  knight  dressed  his  spear  and  his  shield  for  the  encounter, 
and,  having  thus  made  ready  for  the  assault,  each  shouted  to  his  war-horse 
and  drave  his  spurs  deep  into  its  flank. 

Then  those  two  noble  steeds  rushed  forth  like  lightning,  coursing  across 
the  ground  with  such  violent  speed  that  the  earth  trembled  and  shook 
beneath  them,  an  it  were  by  cause  of  an  earthquake.   So  those  two  knights 
met  fairly  in  the  midst  of  the  centre  of  the  field,  crashing  together  like  a 
thunderbolt.     And  so  violently  did  they  smite  the  one  against  Kin  Arthur 
the  other  that  the  spears  burst  into  splinters,  even  unto  the  contests  with  the 
guard  and  the  truncheon  thereof,  and  the  horses  of  the  riders  Sable  Knishtt 
staggered  back  from  the  onset,  so  that  only  because  of  the  extraordinary 
address  of   the  knights-rider  did  they  recover  from  falling  before  that 
shock  of  meeting. 

But,  with  great  spirit,  these  two  knights  uplifted  each  his  horse  with  his 
own  spirit,  and  so  completed  his  course  in  safety. 

And  indeed  King  Arthur  was  very  much  amazed  that  he  had  not  over- 
thrown his  opponent,  for,  at  that  time,  as  aforesaid,  he  was  considered  to  be 
the  very  best  knight  and  the  one  best  approved  in  deeds  of  arms  that  lived 
in  all  of  Britain.  Wherefore  he  marvelled  at  the  power  and  the  address  of 
that  knight  against  whom  he  had  driven,  that  he  had  not  been  overthrown 
by  the  greatness  of  the  blow  that  had  been  delivered  against  his  defences. 
So,  when  they  met  again  in  the  midst  of  the  field,  King  Arthur  gave  that 
knight  greeting,  and  bespoke  him  with  great  courtesy,  addressing  him  in 
this  wise:  •<  Sir  Knight,  I  know  not  who  thou  art,  but  I  do  pledge  my 


56  THE    WINNING    OF  A    SWORD 

knightly  word  that  thou  art  the  most  potent  knight  that  ever  I  have  met 
in  all  of  my  life.  Now  I  do  bid  thee  get  down  straightway  from  thy 
horse,  and  let  us  two  fight  this  battle  with  sword  and  upon  foot,  for  it 
were  pity  to  let  it  end  in  this  way." 

"  Not  so,"  quoth  the  Sable  Knight — "  not  so,  nor  until  one  of  us  twain 
be  overthrown  will  I  so  contest  this  battle  upon  foot."  And  upon  this 
he  shouted,  "  Ho !  Ho ! "  in  a  very  loud  voice,  and  straightway  there- 
upon the  gateway  of  the  castle  opened  and  there  came  running  forth  two 
tall  esquires  clad  all  in  black,  pied  with  crimson.  And  each  of  these  es- 
quires bare  in  his  hand  a  great  spear  of  ash-wood,  new  and  well-seasoned, 
and  never  yet  strained  in  battle. 

So  King  Arthur  chose  one  of  these  spears  and  the  Sable  Knight  took 
the  other,  and  thereupon  each  returned  to  that  station  wherefrom  he  had 
before  essayed  the  encounter. 

Then  once  again  each  knight  rushed  his  steed  to  the  assault,  and  once 
again  did  each  smite  so  fairly  in  the  midst  of  the  defence  of  the  other  that 
the  spears  were  splintered,  so  that  only  the  guard  and  the  truncheon 
thereof  remained  in  the  grasp  of  the  knight  who  held  it. 

Then,  as  before,  King  Arthur  would  have  fought  the  battle  out  with 

swords  and  upon  foot,  but  again  the  Sable  Knight  would  not  have  it  so, 

but  called  aloud  upon  those  within  the  castle,  whereupon  there 

The   knights  r  .  r 

break  lances  a  immediately  came  forth  two  other  esquires  with  fresh,  new 
second  time.  spears  of  ash-wood.  So  each  knight  again  took  him  a  spear, 
and  having  armed  himself  therewith,  chose  each  his  station  upon  that  fair, 
level  lawn  of  grass. 

And  now,  for  the  third  time,  having  thus  prepared  themselves  thereof 
assault,  those  two  excellent  knights  hurled  themselves  together  in  furious 
assault.  And  now,  as  twice  before,  did  King  Arthur  strike  the  Sable 
Knight  so  fairly  in  the  centre  of  his  defence  that  the  spear  which  he  held 
was  burst  into  splinters.  But  this  time,  the  spear  of  the  Sable  Knight  did 
not  so  break  in  that  manner,  but  held;  and  so  violent  was  the  blow  that 
he  delivered  upon  King  Arthur's  shield  that  he  pierced  through  the  centre 
of  it.  Then  the  girths  of  the  King's  saddle  burst  apart  by  that  great,  pow- 
erful blow,  and  both  he  and  his  steed  were  cast  violently  backward.  So 
King  Arthur  might  have  been  overcast,  had  he  not  voided  his  saddle  with 
extraordinary  skill  and  knightly  address,  wheretore,  though  his  horse  was 
King  Arthur  overthrown,  he  himself  still  held  his  footing  and  did  not  fall 
is  overthrown.  jnto  the  dust  Ne'theless,  so  violent  was  the  blow  that  he  re- 
ceived that,  for  a  little  space,  he  was  altogether  bereft  of  his  senses  so 
that  everything  whirled  around  before  his  eyes. 


KING  ARTHUR   BREAKETH  HIS  SWORD  57 

But  when  his  sight  returned  to  him  he  was  filled  with  an  anger  so  vehe- 
ment that  it  appeared  to  him  as  though  all  the  blood  in  his  heart  rushed 
into  his  brains  so  that  he  saw  naught  but  red,  as  of  blood,  before  his  eyes. 
And  when  this  also  had  passed  he  perceived  the  Sable  Knight  that  he  sat 
his  horse  at  no  great  distance.  Then  immediately  King  Arthur  ran  to  him 
and  catching  the  bridle-rein  of  his  horse,  he  cried  out  aloud  unto  that 
Sable  Knight  with  great  violence:  "Come  down,  thou  black  knight! 
and  fight  me  upon  foot  and  with  thy  sword." 

"  That  will  I  not  do,"  said  the  Sable  Knight,  "  for,  lo !  I  have  overthrown 
thee.  Wherefore  deliver  thou  to  me  thy  shield,  that  I  may  hang  it  upon 
yonder  apple-tree,  and  go  thy  way  as  others  have  done  before  thee.  " 

"  That  will  I  not !  "  cried  King  Arthur,  with  exceeding  passion,  "neither 
will  I  yield  myself  nor  go  hence  until  either  thou  or  I  have  altogether 
conquered  the  other."  Thereupon  he  thrust  the  horse  of  the  Sable 
Knight  backward  by  the  bridle-rein  so  vehemently,  that  the  other  was 
constrained  to  void  his  saddle  to  save  himself  from  being  overthrown 
upon  the  ground. 

And  now  each  knight  was  as  entirely  furious  as  the  other,  wherefore, 
each  drew  his  sword  and  dressed  his  shield,  and  thereupon  rushed  together 
like  two  wild  bulls  in  battle.  They  foined,  they  smote,  they  traced,  they 
parried,  they  struck  again  and  again,  and  the  sound  of  their  blows,  crash- 
ing and  clashing  the  one  upon  the  other,  filled  the  entire  surrounding 
space  with  an  extraordinary  uproar.  Nor  may  any  man  altogether  con- 
ceive of  the  entire  fury  of  that  encounter,  for,  because  of  the  violence  of 
the  blows  which  the  one  delivered  upon  the  other,  whole 

r  i       •      f       i-  J  J  The    ******* 

cantels  of  armor  were  hewn  from  their  bodies  and  many  deep  jigktvntk 
and  grievous  wounds  were  given  and  received,  so  that  the    swords  upon 
armor  oi  each  was  altogether  stained  with  red  because  of  the 
blood  that  flowed  down  upon  it. 

At  last  King  Arthur,  waxing,  as  it  were,  entirely  mad,  struck  so  fierce  a 
blow  that  no  armor  could  have  withstood  that  stroke  had  it  fallen  fairly 
upon  it.  But  it  befell  with  that  stroke  that  his  sword  broke  at  the  hilt 
and  the  blade  thereof  flew  into  three  several  pieces  into  the  air.  Yet 
was  the  stroke  so  wonderfully  fierce  that  the  Sable  Knight  groaned,  and 
staggered,  and  ran  about  in  a  circle  as  though  he  had  gone  blind  and  knew 
not  whither  to  direct  his  steps. 

But  presently  he  recovered  himself  again,  and  perceiving  King  Arthur 
standing  near  by,  and  not  knowing  that  his  enemy  had  now  no  swor 
for  to  defend  himself  withal,  he  cast  aside  his  shield  and  took  his  own 
sword  into  both  hands,  and  therewith  smote  so  dolorous  a  stroke  that  he 


58  THE    WINNING    OF  A    SWORD 

clave  through  Kuig  Arthur's  shield  and  through  his  helmet  and  even  to  the 
bone  of  his  brain-pan. 

Then  King  Arthur  thought  that  he  had  received  his  death-wound,  for 
his  brains  swam  like  water,  his  thighs  trembled  exceedingly,  and  he  sank 
down  to  his  knees,  whilst  the  blood  and  sweat,  commingled  together  in  the 
darkness  of  his  helmet,  flowed  down  into  his  eyes  in  a  lather  and  blinded 
King  Arthur  is  him-  Thereupon,  seeing  him  thus  grievously  hurt,  the  Sable 
sorely  wounded.  Knight  called  upon  him  with  great  vehemence  for  to  yield 
himself  and  to  surrender  his  shield,  because  he  was  now  too  sorely 
wounded  for  to  fight  any  more. 

But  King  Arthur  would  not  yield  himself,  but  catching  the  other  by 
the  sword-belt,  he  lifted  himself  to  his  feet.  Then,  being  in  a  manner  re- 
covered  from  his  amazement,  he  embraced  the  other  with  both  arms, 
and  placing  his  knee  behind  the  thigh  of  the  Sable  Knight,  he  cast  him 
backward  down  upon  the  ground  so  violently  that  the  sound  of  the  fall  was 
astounding  to  hear.  And  with  that  fall  the  Sable  Knight  was,  awhile,  en- 
tirely bereft  of  consciousness.  Then  King  Arthur  straightway  unlaced  the 
helm  of  the  Sable  Knight  and  so  beheld  his  face,  and  he  knew  him  in  spite 
of  the  blood  that  still  ran  down  his  own  countenance  in  great  quantities, 
and  he  knew  that  knight  was  King  Pellinore,  aforenamed  in  this  his- 
tory, who  had  twice  warred  against  King  Arthur.  (It  hath  already  been 
said  how  King  Arthur  had  driven  that  other  king  from  the  habitations 
of  men  and  into  the  forests,  so  that  now  he  dwelt  in  this  poor  gloomy 
castle  whence  he  waged  war  against  all  the  knights  who  came  unto  that 
place.) 

Now  when  King  Arthur  beheld  whom  it  was  against  whom  he  had 
done  battle,  he  cried  out  aloud,  "  Ha !  Pellinore,  is  it  then  thou  ?  Now 
yield  thee  to  me,  for  thou  art  entirely  at  my  mercy."  And  upon  this 
he  drew  his  misericordia  and  set  the  point  thereof  at  King  Pellinore's 
throat. 

But  by  now  King  Pellinore  had  greatly  recovered  from  his  fall,  and  per- 
ceiving that  the  blood  was  flowing  down  in  great  measure  from  out  his 
enemy's  helmet,  he  wist  that  that  other  must  have  been  very  sorely 
wounded  by  the  blow  which  he  had  just  now  received.  Wherefore  he 
catched  King  Arthur's  wrist  in  his  hand  and  directed  the  point  of  the  dag- 
ger away  from  his  own  throat  so  that  no  great  danger  threatened  there- 
from. 

And,  indeed,  what  with  his  sore  wound  and  with  the  loss  of  blood,  King 
Arthur  was  now  fallen  exceedingly  sick  and  faint,  so  that  it  appeared  to 
him  that  he  was  nigh  to  death.  Accordingly,  it  was  with  no  very  great 


KING  ARTHUR  IS    WOUNDED  59 

ado  that  King  Pellinore  suddenly  heaved  himself  up  from  the  ground  and 
so  overthrew  his  enemy  that  King  Arthur  was  now  underneath  his  knees. 

And  by  this  King  Pellinore  was  exceedingly  mad  with  the  fury  of  the 
sore  battle  he  had  fought.     For  he  was  so  enraged  that  his  eyes  were  all 
beshot  with  blood  like  those  of  a  wild  boar,  and  a  froth,  like  the  champ- 
ings  of  a  wild  boar,  stood  in  the  beard  about  his  lips.     Where- 
fore he  wrenched  the  dagger  out  of  his  enemy's  hand,  and   ^L^kiii* 
immediately  began  to  unlace  his  helm,  with  intent  to  slay  him    Kins  Arthur. 
where  he  lay.     But  at  this  moment  Merlin  came  in  great  haste,  crying  out, 
"Stay!   stay!    Sir  Pellinore;    what  would    you  be  at?    Stay    your   sac- 
rilegious hand !     For  he  who  lieth  beneath  you  is  none  other  than  Arthur, 
King  of  all  this  realm  ! " 

At  this  King  Pellinore  was  astonished  beyond  measure.  And  for  a  little 
he  was  silent,  and  then  after  awhile  he  cried  out  in  a  very  loud  voice,  "  Say 
you  so,  old  man  ?  Then  verily  your  words  have  doomed  this  man  unto  death. 
For  no  one  in  all  this  world  hath  ever  suffered  such  ill  and  such  wrongs 
as  I  have  suffered  at  his  hands.  For,  lo !  he  hath  taken  from  me  power, 
and  kingship,  and  honors,  and  estates,  and  hath  left  me  only  this  gloomy, 
dismal  castle  of  the  forest  as  an  abiding-place.  Wherefore,  seeing  that  he 
is  thus  in  my  power,  he  shall  now  presently  die ;  if  for  no  other  reason  than 
because  if  I  now  let  him  go  free,  he  will  certainly  revenge  himself  when  he 
shall  have  recovered  from  all  the  ill  he  hath  suffered  at  my  hands." 

Then  Merlin  said,  "  Not  so!     He  shall  not  die  at  thy  hands,  for  I,  my- 
self, shall   save  him."     Whereupon  he  uplifted   his  staff  and  MerKn  ^  a 
smote  King  Pellinore  across  the  shoulders.    Then  immediately  spell  upon  King 
King  Pellinore  fell  down  and  lay  upon  the  ground  on  his  face 
like  one  who  had  suddenly  gone  dead. 

Upon  this,  King  Arthur  uplifted  himself  upon  his  elbow  and  beheld 
his  enemy  lying  there  as  though  dead,  and  he  cried  out,  "  Ha !  Merlin ! 
what  is  this  that  thou  hast  done?  I  am  very  sorry,  for  I  do  perceive  that 
thou,  by  thy  arts  of  magic,  hath  slain  one  of  the  best  knights  in  all  the 
world." 

"  Not  so,  my  lord  King ! "  said  Merlin ;  "  for,  in  sooth,  I  tell  thee  that 
thou  art  far  nigher  to  thy  death  than  he.  For  he  is  but  in  sleep  and  will 
soon  awaken;  but  thou  art  in  such  a  case  that  it  would  take  only  a  very 
little  for  to  cause  thee  to  die." 

And  indeed  King  Arthur  was  exceeding  sick,  even  to  the  heart,  with  the 
sore  wound  he  had  received,  so  that  it  was  only  with  much  ado  that  Merlin 
could  help  him  up  upon  his  horse.  Having  done  the  which  and  having 
hung  the  King's  shield  upon  the  horn  of  his  saddle,  Merlin  straightway 


60  THE    WINNING    OF  A    SWORD 

conveyed  the  wounded  man  thence  across  the  bridge,  and,  leading  the 
horse  by  the  bridle,  so  took  him  away  into  the  forest. 

Now  I  must  tell  you  that  there  was  in  that  part  of  the  forest  a  certain 
hermit  so  holy  that  the  wild  birds  of  the  woodland  would  come  and  rest 
upon  his  hand  whiles  he  read  his  breviary ;  and  so  sanctified  was  he  in 
gentleness  that  the  wild  does  would  come  even  to  the  door  of  his  hermit- 
age, and  there  stand  whilst  he  milked  them  for  his  refreshment.  And  this 
hermit  dwelt  in  that  part  of  the  forest  so  remote  from  the  habitations  of 
man  that  when  he  rang  the  bell  for  matins  or  for  vespers,  there  was  hardly 
ever  anyone  to  hear  the  sound  thereof  excepting  the  wild  creatures  that 
dwelt  thereabout.  Yet,  ne'theless,  to  this  remote  and  lonely  place  royal 
folk  and  others  of  high  degree  would  sometimes  come,  as  though  on  a  pil- 
grimage, because  of  the  hermit's  exceeding  saintliness. 

So  Merlin  conveyed  King  Arthur  unto  this  sanctuary,  and,  having 
reached  that  place,  he  and  the  hermit  lifted  the  wounded  man  down  from 
Merlin  bring-  his  saddle — the  hermit  giving  many  words  of  pity  and  sor- 
eth  King  Ar-  row — and  together  they  conveyed  him  into  the  holy  man's 

thur  to  the  cell  „        _,.  ,  .    .,    ,  .  ,        <-  11  i 

of  a  lonely  cell.  There  they  laid  him  upon  a  couch  of  moss  and  unlaced 
hermit.  his  armor  and  searched  his  wounds  and  bathed  them  with 

pure  water  and  dressed  his  hurts,  for  that  hermit  was  a  very  skilful  leech. 
So  for  all  that  day  and  part  of  the  next,  King  Arthur  lay  upon  the  her- 
mit's pallet  like  one  about  to  die  ;  for  he  beheld  all  things  about  him  as 
though  through  thin  water,  and  the  breath  hung  upon  his  lips  and  flut- 
tered, and  he  could  not  even  lift  his  head  from  the  pallet  because  of  the 
weakness  that  lay  upon  him. 

Now  upon  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day  there  fell  a  great  noise  and 
tumult  in  that  part  of  the  forest.  For  it  happened  that  the  Lady  Guine- 
vere of  Cameliard,  together  with  her  Court,  both  of  ladies  and  of  knights, 
had  come  upon  a  pilgrimage  to  that  holy  man,  the  fame  of  whose  saintli- 
ness had  reached  even  unto  the  place  where  she  dwelt.  For  that  lady  had 

a  favorite  page  who  was  very  sick  of  a  fever,  and  she  trusted 
Guinevere  con-    that  the  holy  man  might  give  her  some  charm  or  amulet  by 
e     ^e  yirtue  °f  which  he  might  haply  be  cured.     Wherefore  she 

had  come  to  that  place  with  her  entire  Court  so  that  all  that 
part  of  the  forest  was  made  gay  with  fine  raiment  and  the  silence  thereof 
was  made  merry  with  the  sound  of  talk  and  laughter  and  the  singing  of 
songs  and  the  chattering  of  many  voices  and  the  neighing  of  horses.  And 
the  Lady  Guinevere  rode  in  the  midst  of  her  damsels  and  her  Court,  and 
her  beauty  outshone  the  beauty  of  her  damsels  as  the  splendor  of  the  morn- 
ing star  outshines  that  of  all  the  lesser  stars  that  surround  it.  For  then 


THE   LADY  GUINEVERE  FINDETH  KING  ARTHUR  6x 

and  afterward  she  was  held  by  all  the  Courts  of  Chivalry  to  be  the  most 
beautiful  lady  in  the  world. 

Now  when  the  Lady  Guinevere  had  come  to  that  place,  she  perceived 
the  milk-white  war-horse  of  King  Arthur  where  it  stood  cropping  the 
green  grass  of  the  open  glade  nigh  to  the  hermitage.  And  likewise  she 
perceived  Merlin,  where  he  stood  beside  the  door  of  the  cell.  So  of  him 
she  demanded  whose  was  that  noble  war-horse  that  stood  browsing  upon 
the  grass  at  that  lonely  place,  and  who  was  it  that  lay  within  that  cell. 
And  unto  her  Merlin  made  answer,  "  Lady,  he  who  lieth  within  is  a 
knight,  very  sorely  wounded,  so  that  he  is  sick  nigh  unto  death !  " 

"  Pity  of  Heaven  !  "  cried  the  Lady  Guinevere.  "  What  a  sad  thing  is 
this  that  thou  tellest  me  !  Now  I  do  beseech  thee  to  lead  me  presently 
unto  that  knight  that  I  may  behold  him.  For  Thave  in  my  Court  a  very 
skilful  leech,  who  is  well  used  to  the  cure  of  hurts  such  as  knights  receive 
in  battle." 

So  Merlin  brought  the  lady  into  the  cell,  and  there  she  beheld  King 
Arthur  where  he  lay  stretched  upon  the  pallet.  And  she  wist  not  who  he 
was.  Yet  it  appeared  to  her  that  in  all  her  life  she  had  not  beheld  so 
noble  appearing  a  knight  as  he  who  lay  sorely  wounded  in  that  lonely 
place.  And  King  Arthur  cast  his  looks  upward  to  where  she  stood  beside 
his  bed  of  pain,  surrounded  by  her  maidens,  and  in  the  great  weakness  that 
lay  upon  him  he  wist  not  whether  she  whom  he  beheld  was  a  mortal  lady 
or  whether  she  was  not  rather  some  tall  straight  angel  who  had  descended 
from  one  of  the  Lordly  Courts  of  Paradise  for  to  visit  him  in  his  pain  and 
distresses.  And  the  Lady  Guinevere  was  filled  with  a  great  The  j^jy 
pity  at  beholding  King  Arthur's  sorrowful  estate.  Wherefore  %££%£' 
she  called  to  her  that  skilful  leech  who  was  with  her  Court,  for  to  heal 
And  she  bade  him  bring  a  certain  alabaster  box  of  exceed-  &*?<** 
ingly  precious  balsam.  And  she  commanded  him  for  to  search  that 
knight's  wounds  and  to  anoint  them  with  the  balsam,  so  that  he  might 
be  healed  of  his  hurts  with  all  despatch. 

So  that  wise  and  skilful  leech  did  according  to  the  Lady  Guinevere's 
commands,  and  immediately  King  Arthur  felt  entire  ease  of  all  his  aches 
and  great  content  of  spirit.  And  when  the  Lady  and  her  Court  had 
departed,  he  found  himself  much  uplifted  in  heart,  and  three  days  t 
after  he  was  entirely  healed  and  was  as  well  and  strong  and  lusty  as  evei 
he  had  been  in  all  of  his  life. 

And  this  was  the  first  time  that  King  Arthur  ever  beheld  that  beauti- 
ful lady,  the  Lady  Guinevere  of  Cameliard,  and  from  that  time  1 


6a  THE    WINNING   OF  A   SWORD 

never  forgot  her,  but  she  was  almost  always  present  in  his  thoughts. 
Wherefore,  when  he  was  recovered  he  said  thus  to  himself :  "  I  will  forget 
that  I  am  a  king  and  1  will  cherish  the  thought  of  this  lady  and  will  serve 
her  faithfully  as  a  good  knight  may  serve  his  chosen  dame/' 
And  so  he  did,  as  ye  shall  hear  later  in  this  book. 


xcalibut  fit?  StDotb. 


p§  Chapter  Third. 

How  King  Arthur  Found  a  Noble  Sword  In  a  Very  Wonderful 
Manner.  And  How  He  Again  Fought  With  It  and  Won  That 
Battle. 

NOW,  as  soon  as  King  Arthur  had,  by  means  of  that  extraordi- 
nary balsam,  been  thus  healed  of  those  grievous  wounds  which 
he  had  received  in  his  battle  with  King  Pellinore,  he  found 
himself  to  be  moved  by  a  most  vehement  desire  to  meet  his  enemy  again 
for  to  try  issue  of  battle  with  him  once  more,  and  so  recover  the  credit 
which  he  had  lost  in  that  combat.  Now,  upon  the  morning  of  the  fourth 
day,  being  entirely  cured,  and  having  broken  his  fast,  he  walked  for  re- 
freshment beside  the  skirts  of  the  forest,  listening  the  while  to  the  cheer- 
ful sound  of  the  wood-birds  singing  their  matins,  all  with  might  and  main. 
And  Merlin  walked  beside  him,  and  King  Arthur  spake  his  mind  to  Merlin 
concerning  his  intent  to  engage  once  more  in  knightly  contest  with  King 
Pellinore.  And  he  said,  "  Merlin,  it  doth  vex  me  very  sorely  Kin  Arthur 
for  to  have  come  off  so  ill  in  my  late  encounter  with  king  desireth  to  re- 
Pellinore.  Certes,he  is  the  very  best  knight  in  all  the  world  newhis  battle' 
whom  I  have  ever  yet  encountered.  Ne'theless,  it  might  have  fared 
differently  with  me  had  I  not  broken  my  sword,  and  so  left  myself  alto- 
gether defenceless  in  that  respect.  Howsoever  that  may  be,  I  am  of  a 
mind  for  to  assay  this  adventure  once  more,  and  so  will  I  do  as  immediately 
as  may  be." 

Thereunto  Merlin  made  reply,  "  Thou  art,  assuredly,  a  very  brave  man 
to  have  so  much  appetite  for  battle,  seeing  how  nigh  thou  earnest  unto 
thy  death  not  even  four  days  ago.  Yet  how  mayst  thou  hope  to  under- 
take this  adventure  without  due  preparation?  For,  lo !  thou  hast  no 
sword,  nor  hast  thou  a  spear,  nor  hast  thou  even  thy  misericordia  for 
to  do  battle  withal.  How  then  mayst  thou  hope  for  to  assay  this  ad- 
venture?" 

And  King  Arthur  said,  "  That  I  know  not,  nevertheless  I  will  presently 
seek  for  some  weapon  as  soon  as  may  be.  For,  even  an  I  have  no  better 


66  THE    WINNING   OF  A    SWORD 

weapon  than  an  oaken  cudgel,  yet  would  I  assay  this  battle  again  with  so 
poor  a  tool,  as  that." 

"  Ha !  Lord,"  said  Merlin,  "  I  do  perceive  that  thou  art  altogether  fixed 
in  thy  purpose  for  to  renew  this  quarrel.  Wherefore,  I  will  not  seek  to 
stay  thee  therefrom,  but  will  do  ail  that  in  me  lies  for  to  aid  thee  in  thy 
desires.  Now  to  this  end  I  must  tell  thee  that  in  one  part  of  this  forest 
(which  is,  indeed,  a  very  strange  place)  there  is  a  certain  woodland  some- 
times called  Arroy,  and  other  times  called  the  Forest  of  Adventure.  For 
no  knight  ever  entereth  therein  but  some  adventure  befalleth  him.  And 
close  to  Arroy  is  a  land  of  enchantment  which  has  several  times  been  seen. 
And  that  is  a  very,  wonderful  land,  for  there  is  in  it  a  wide  and  consid- 
erable lake,  which  is  also  of  enchantment.  And  in  the  centre  of  that 
lake  there  hath  for  some  time  been  seen  the  appearance  as  of  a  woman's 
arm — exceedingly  beautiful  and  clad  in  white  samite,  and  the  hand  of  this 
arm  holdeth  a  sword  of  such  exceeding  excellence  and  beauty  that  no 
eye  hath  ever  beheld  its  like.  And  the  name  of  this  sword 

Merhn  telleth        ,     — ,         , 

King  Arthur  is  Excahbur — it  being  so  named  by  those  who  have  beheld 
ofExcalibur.  ^  because  of  its  marvellous  brightness  and  beauty.  For  it 
hath  come  to  pass  that  several  knights  have  already  seen  that  sword 
and  have  endeavored  to  obtain  it  for  their  own,  but,  heretofore,  no 
one  hath  been  able  to  touch  it,  and  many  have  lost  their  lives  in  that 
adventure.  For  when  any  man  draweth  near  unto  it,  either  he  sinks 
into  the  lake,  or  else  the  arm  disappeareth  entirely,  or  else  it  is  with- 
drawn beneath  the  lake ;  wherefore  no  man  hath  ever  been  able  to 
obtain  the  possession  of  that  sword.  Now  I  am  able  to  conduct  thee  unto 
that  Lake  of  Enchantment,  and  there  thou  mayst  see  Excalibur  with 
thine  own  eyes.  Then  when  thou  hast  seen  him  thou  mayst,  haply,  have 
the  desire  to  obtain  him ;  which,  an  thou  art  able  to  do,  thou  wilt  have  a 
sword  very  fitted  for  to  do  battle  with." 

"  Merlin,"  quoth  the  King,  "  this  is  a  very  strange  thing  which  thou 
tellest  me.  Now  I  am  desirous  beyond  measure  for  to  attempt  to  obtain 
this  sword  for  mine  own,  wherefore  I  do  beseech  thee  to  lead  me  with  all 
despatch  to  this  enchanted  lake  whereof  thou  tellest  me."  And  Merlin 
said,  "  I  will  do  so." 

So  that  morning  King  Arthur  and  Merlin  took  leave  of  that  holy  hermit 
(the  King  having  kneeled  in  the  grass  to  receive  his  benediction),  and  so, 
departing  from  that  place,  they  entered  the  deeper  forest  once  more, 
betaking  their  way  to  that  part  which  was  known  as  Arroy. 

And  after  awhile  they  came  to  Arroy,  and  it  was  about  noon-tide. 
And  when  they  had  entered  into  those  woodlands  they  came  to  a  certain 


KING  ARTHUR  FEASTS  IN  THE  FOREST  67 

little  open  place,  and  in  that  place  they  beheld  a  white  doe  with  a  golden 
collar  about  its  neck.      And  King  Arthur  said,  "Look,  Merlin,  yonder 
is  a  wonderful  sight."     And  Merlin  said,  "  Let  us  follow  that  doe."     And 
upon  this  the  doe  turned  and  they  followed  it.     And  by  and  by  in  follow- 
ing it  they  came  to  an  opening  in  the  trees  where  was  a  little  lawn  of 
sweet  soft  grass.     Here  they  beheld  a  bower  and  before  the 
bower  was  a  table  spread  with  a  fair  snow-white  cloth,  and  set   ^n^A^thur 
with  refreshments  of  white  bread,  wine,  and  meats  of  several   follow  a  white 
sorts.     And  at  the  door  of  this  bower  there  stood  a  page,  clad 
all  in  green,  and  his  hair  was  as  black  as  ebony,  and  his  eyes  as  black 
as  jet  and  exceeding  bright.     And  when  this  page  beheld  King  Arthur  and 
Merlin,  he  gave  them  greeting,  and  welcomed  the  King  very  pleasantly 
saying,  "  Ha  !  King  Arthur,  thou  art  welcome  to  this  place.     Now  I  prithee 
dismount  and  refresh  thyself  before  going  farther." 

Then  was  King  Arthur  a-doubt  as  to  whether  there  might  not  be  some 
enchantment  in  this  for  to  work  him  an  ill,  for  he  was  astonished  that  that 
page  in  the  deep  forest  should  know  him  so  well.  But  Merlin  bade  him 
have  good  cheer,  and  he  said,  "  Indeed,  Lord,  thou  mayst  freely  partake  of 
that  refreshment  which,  I  may  tell  thee,  was  prepared  especially  for  thee. 
Moreover  in  this  thou  mayst  foretell  a  very  happy  issue  unto  this  ad- 
venture." 

So  King  Arthur  sat  down  to  the  table  with  great  comfort  of  heart 
(for  he  was  an  hungered)  and  that  page  and  another  like  unto  him  min- 
istered unto  his  needs,  serving  him  all  the  food  upon  sil- 

,  ,  ,  j  i  King  Arthur 

ver  plates,  and  all  the   wine  in  golden  goblets  as  he  was    is  refreshed  in 


used  to  being  served  in  his  own  court—  only  that  those 
things  were  much  more  cunningly  wrought  and  fashioned, 
and  were  more  beautiful  than  the  table  furniture  of  the  King's  court. 
Then,  after  he  had  eaten  his  fill  and  had  washed  his  hands  from  a  silver 
basin  which  the  first  page  offered  to  him,  and  had  wiped  his  hands  upon 
a  fine  linen  napkin  which  the  other  page  brought  unto  him,  and  after 
Merlin  had  also  refreshed  himself,  they  went  their  way,  greatly  rejoicing 
at  this  pleasant  adventure,  which,  it  seemed  to  the  King,  could  not  but 
betoken  a  very  good  issue  to  his  undertaking. 

Now  about  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  King  Arthur  and  Merlin  came, 
of  a  sudden,  out  from  the  forest  and  upon  a  fair  and  level  plain,  bedight 
all  over  with  such  a  number  of  flowers  that  no  man  could  conceive  of  thei 
quantity  nor  of  the  beauty  thereof. 

And  this  was  a  very  wonderful  land,  for,  lo  !  all  the  air  appeared  as  it 


68  THE    WINNING    OF  A    SWORD 

were  to  be  as  of  gold — so  bright  was  it  and  so  singularly  radiant.  And 
here  and  there  upon  that  plain  were  sundry  trees  all  in  blossom ;  and  the 
fragrance  of  the  blossoms  was  so  sweet  that  the  King  had  never  smelt  any 
fragrance  like  to  it.  And  in  the  branches  of  those  trees  were  a  multitude 
of  birds  of  many  colors,  and  the  melody  of  their  singing  ravished  the 
heart  of  the  hearer.  And  midway  in  the  plain  was  a  lake  of  water  as 
bright  as  silver,  and  all  around  the  borders  of  the  lake  were  incredible 
Kin  Arthur  num^ers  °f  lilies  and  of  daffodils.  ,  Yet,  although  this  place 
comethtoa  was  so  exceedingly  fair,  there  was,  nevertheless,  nowhere 
strange  land.  about  it  a  single  sign  of  human  life  of  any  sort,  but  it  appeared 
altogether  as  lonely  as  the  hollow  sky  upon  a  day  of  summer.  So,  be* 
cause  of  all  the  marvellous  beauty  of  this  place,  and  because  of  its  strange- 
ness and  its  entire  solitude,  King  Arthur  perceived  that  he  must  have 
come  into  a  land  of  powerful  enchantment  where,  happily,  dwelt  a  fairy 
of  very  exalted  quality ;  wherefore  his  spirit  was  enwrapped  in  a  manner 
of  fear,  as  he  pushed  his  great  milk-white  war-horse  through  that  long  fair 
grass,  all  bedight  with  flowers,  and  he  wist  not  what  strange  things  were 
about  to  befall  him. 

So  when  he  had  come  unto  the  margin  of  the  lake  he  beheld  there  the 
miracle  that  Merlin  had  told  him  of  aforetime.  For,  lo !  in  the  midst  of  the 
expanse  of  water  there  was  the  appearance  of  a  fair  and  beautiful  arm,  as  of 
a  woman,  clad  all  in  white  samite.  And  the  arm  was  encircled  with  several 
bracelets  of  wrought  gold  ;  and  the  hand  held  a  sword  of  marvellous  work- 
manship aloft  in  the  air  above  the  surface  of  the  water;  and  neither  the 
arm  nor  the  sword  moved  so  much  as  a  hair's-breadth,  but  were  motionless 
like  to  a  carven  image  upon  the  surface  of  the  lake.  And,  behold  !  the 
sun  of  that  strange  land  shone  down  upon  the  hilt  of  the  sword,  and 
King  Arthur  &  was  °f  Pure  g°^  beset  with  jewels  of  several  sorts,  so 
seeth Excaiibur  that  the  hilt  of  the  sword  and  the  bracelets  that  encircled 
the  arm  glistered  in  the  midst  of  the  lake  like  to  some  singular  star  of 
exceeding  splendor.  And  King  Arthur  sat  upon  his  war-horse  and 
gazed  from  a  distance  at  the  arm  and  the  sword,  and  he  greatly 
marvelled  thereat;  yet  he  wist  not  how  he  might  come  at  that  sword, 
for  the  lake  was  wonderfully  wide  and  deep,  wherefore  he  knew  not 
how  he  might  come  thereunto  for  to  make  it  his  own.  And  as  he  sat 
pondering  this  thing  within  himself,  he  was  suddenly  aware  of  a  strange 
lady,  who  approached  him  through  those  tall  flowers  that  bloomed 
along  the  margin  of  the  lake.  And  when  he  perceived  her  coming  to- 
ward him  he  quickly  dismounted  from  his  war-horse  and  he  went  for- 
ward for  to  meet  her  with  the  bridle-rein  over  his  arm.  And  when  he 


KING   ARTHUR  MEETS  A    STRANGE  LADY  69 

had  come  nigh  to  her,  he  perceived  that  she  was  extraordinarily  beauti- 
ful, and  that  her  face  was  like  wax  for  clearness,  and  that  her  eyes  were 
perfectly  black,  and  that  they  were  as  bright  and  glistening  as  though 
they  were  two  jewels  set  in  ivory.  And  he  perceived  that  her  hair  was 
like  silk  and  as  black  as  it  was  possible  to  be,  and  so  long  that  it  reached 
unto  the  ground  as  she  walked.  And  the  lady  was  clad  all  in  green—  only 
that  a  fine  cord  of  crimson  and  gold  was  interwoven  into  the  plaits  of  her 
hair.  And  around  her  neck  there  hung  a  very  beautiful  necklace  of  sev- 
eral strands  of  opal  stones  and  emeralds,  set  in  cunningly  wrought  gold  ; 
and  around  her  wrists  were  bracelets  of  the  like  sort  —  of  opal  stones 
and  emeralds  set  into  gold.  So  when  King  Arthur  beheld 
her  wonderful  appearance,  that  it  was  like  to  an  ivory  statue 


of  exceeding  beauty  clad  all  in  green,  he  immediately  kneeled    Lady  of  the 
before  her  in  the  midst  of  all  those  flowers  as  he  said,  "  Lady, 
I  do  certainly  perceive  that  thou  art  no  mortal  damoiselle,  but  that  thou 
art  Fay.     Also  that  this  place,  because  of  its  extraordinary  beauty,  can  be 
no  other  than  some  land  of  Faerie  into  which  I  have  entered." 

And  the  Lady  replied,  "  King  Arthur,  thou  sayest  soothly,  for  I  am 
indeed  Faerie.  Moreover,  I  may  tell  thee  that  my  name  is  Nymue,  and 
that  I  am  the  chiefest  of  those  Ladies  of  the  Lake  of  whom  thou  mayst  have 
heard  people  speak.  Also  thou  art  to  know  that  what  thou  beholdest 
yonder  as  a  wide  lake  is,  in  truth,  a  plain  like  unto  this,  all  bedight  with 
flowers.  And  likewise  thou  art  to  know  that  in  the  midst  of  that  plain 
there  standeth  a  castle  of  white  marble  and  of  ultramarine  illuminated 
with  gold.  But,  lest  mortal  eyes  should  behold  our  dwelling-place,  my 
sisters  and  I  have  caused  it  to  be  that  this  appearance  as  of  a  lake  should 
extend  all  over  that  castle  so  that  it  is  entirely  hidden  from  sight.  Nor 
may  any  mortal  man  cross  that  lake,  saving  in  one  way—  otherwise  he 
shall  certainly  perish  therein." 

"  Lady,"  said  King  Arthur,  "  that  which  thou  tellest  me  causes  me  to 
wonder  a  very  great  deal.  And,  indeed,  I  am  afraid  that  in  coming 
hitherward  I  have  been  doing  amiss  for  to  intrude  upon  the  solitude  of 
your  dwelling-place." 

"  Nay,  not  so,  King  Arthur,"  said  the  Lady  of  the  Lake,  "  for,  in  truth, 
thou  art  very  welcome  hereunto.     Moreover,  I  may  tell  thee  that  I  have 
a  greater  friendliness  for  thee  and  those  noble  knights  of  thy  court  than 
thou  canst  easily  wot  of.     But  I  do  beseech  thee  of  thy  courtesy  for  to  t< 
me  what  it  is  that  brings  thee  to  our  land?" 

"  Lady,"  quoth  the  King,  "  I  will  tell  thee  the  entire  truth. 
late  a  battle  with  a  certain  sable  knight,  in  the  which  I  was  sorely  and 


70  THE    WINNING    OF  A    SWORD 

grievously  wounded,  and  wherein  I  burst  my  spear  and  snapped  my 
sword  and  lost  even  my  misericordia,  so  that  I  had  not  a  single  thing 
lef  tme  by  way  of  a  weapon.  In  this  extremity  Merlin,  here,  told  me  of 
Excalibur,  and  of  how  he  is  continually  upheld  by  an  arm  in  the  midst  of 
this  magical  lake.  So  I  came  hither  and,  behold,  I  find  it  even  as  he 
hath  said.  Now,  Lady,  an  it  be  possible,  I  would  fain  achieve  that  excel- 
lent sword,  that,  by  means  of  it  I  might  fight  my  battle  to  its  entire  end." 

"  Ha !  my  lord  King,"  said  the  Lady  of  the  Lake,  "  that  sword  is  no  easy 
thing  for  to  achieve,  and,  moreover,  I  may  tell  thee  that  several  knights 
have  lost  their  lives  by  attempting  that  which  thou  hast  a  mind  to  do. 
For,  in  sooth,  no  man  may  win  yonder  sword  unless  he  be  without  fear 
and  without  reproach." 

"  Alas,  Lady!"  quoth  King  Arthur,  "  that  is  indeed  a  sad  saying  for  me. 
For,  though  I  may  not  lack  in  knightly  courage,  yet,  in  truth,  there  be  many 
things  wherewith  I  do  reproach  myself  withal.  Ne'theless,  I  would  fain 
attempt  this  thing,  even  an  it  be  to  my  great  endangerment.  Wherefore, 
I  prithee  tell  me  how  I  may  best  undertake  this  adventure." 

"  King  Arthur,"  said  the  Lady  of  the  Lake,  "  I  will  do  what  I  say  to  aid 
thee  in  thy  wishes  in  this  matter."  Whereupon  she  lifted  a  single  emerald 
that  hung  by  a  small  chain  of  gold  at  her  girdle  and,  lo!  the  emerald  was 
Tk  L  d  f  cunningly  carved  into  the  form  of  a  whistle.  And  she  set  the 
the  Lake  sum-  whistle  to  her  lips  and  blew  upon  it  very  shrilly.  Then 
moneth  a  boat,  straightway  there  appeared  upon  the  water,  a  great  way  off, 
a  certain  thing  that  shone  very  brightly.  And  this  drew  near  with  great 
speed,  and  as  it  came  nigh,  behold  !  it  was  a  boat  all  of  carven  brass.  And 
the  prow  of  the  boat  was  carved  into  the  form  of  a  head  of  a  beautiful 
woman,  and  upon  either  side  were  wings  like  the  wings  of  a  swan.  And 
the  boat  moved  upon  the  water  like  a  swan — very  swiftly — so  that  long 
lines,  like  to  silver  threads,  stretched  far  away  behind,  across  the  face  of 
the  water,  which  otherwise  was  like  unto  glass  for  smoothness.  And 
when  the  brazen  boat  had  reached  the  bank  it  rested  there  and  moved  no 
more. 

Then  the  Lady  of  the  Lake  bade  King  Arthur  to  enter  the  boat,  and  so 
he  entered  it.  And  immediately  he  had  done  so,  the  boat  moved  away 
from  the  bank  as  swiftly  as  it  had  come  thither.  And  Merlin  and  the 
Lady  of  the  Lake  stood  upon  the  margin  of  the  water,  and  gazed  after 
King  Arthur  and  the  brazen  boat. 

And  King  Arthur  beheld  that  the  boat  floated  swiftly  across  the  lake 
to  where  was  the  arm  uplifting  the  sword,  and  that  the  arm  and  the  sword 
moved  not  but  remained  where  they  were. 


KING  ARTHUR    WINNETH  EXCALIBUR  7I 

Then  King  Arthur  reached  forth  and  took  the  sword  in  his  hand,  and 
immediately   the   arm   disappeared    beneath   the   water,  and 
King  Arthur  held  the  sword  and  the  scabbard  thereof  and    obfaLeth 
the  belt  thereof  in  his  hand  and,  lo !  they  were  his  own.  Excaiibur. 

Then  verily  his  heart  swelled  with  joy  an  it  would  burst  within  his 
bosom,  for  Excaiibur  was  an  hundred  times  more  beautiful  than  he  had 
thought  possible.  Wherefore  his  heart  was  nigh  breaking  for  pure  joy  at 
having  obtained  that  magic  sword. 

Then  the  brazen  boat  bore  him  very  quickly  back  to  the  land  again  and 
he  stepped  ashore  where  stood  the  Lady  of  the  Lake  and  Merlin.  And 
when  he  stood  upon  the  shore,  he  gave  the  Lady  great  thanks  beyond 
measure  for  all  that  she  had  done  for  to  aid  him  in  his  great  undertaking ; 
and  she  gave  him  cheerful  and  pleasing  words  in  reply. 

Then  King  Arthur  saluted  the  lady,  as  became  him,  and,  having  mounted 
his  war-horse,  and  Merlin  having  mounted  his  palfrey,  they  rode  away 
thence  upon  their  business— the  King's  heart  still  greatly  expanded  with 
pure  delight  at  having  for  his  own  that  beautiful  sword — the  most  beauti- 
ful and  the  most  famous  sword  in  all  the  world. 

That  night  King  Arthur  and  Merlin  abided  with  the  holy  hermit  at  the 
forest  sanctuary,  and  when  the  next  morning  had  come  (the  King  having 
bathed  himself  in  the  ice-cold  forest  fountain,  and  being  exceedingly  re- 
freshed thereby)  they  took  their  departure,  offering  thanks  to  that  saintly 
man  for  the  harborage  he  had  given  them. 

Anon,  about  noon-tide,  they  reached  the  valley  of  the  Sable  Knight,  and 
there  were  all  things  appointed  exactly  as  when  King  Arthur  had  been  there 
before :  to  wit,  that  gloomy  castle,  the  lawn  of  smooth  grass,  the  apple- 
tree  covered  over  with  shields,  and  the  bridge  whereon  hung  that  single 
shield  of  sable. 

"  Now,  Merlin/'  quoth  King  Arthur,  "  I  do  this  time  most  strictly  forbid 
thee  for  to  interfere  in  this  quarrel.     Nor  shalt  thou,  under  pain  of  my 
displeasure,  exert  any  of  thy  arts  of  magic  in  my  behalf.     So  hearken  thoi 
to  what  I  say,  and  heed  it  with  all  possible  diligence." 

Thereupon,  straightway,  the  King  rode  forth  upon  the  bridge  and,  seiz- 
ing the  brazen  mall,  he  smote  upon  the  sable  shield  with  all  his  might  an 
main.     Immediately  the  portcullis  of  the  castle  was  let  fall  as  KingArthur 
afore  told,  and,  in  the  same  manner  as  that  other  time,  the  <£iienges  King 
Sable    Knight    rode    forth   therefrom,  already  bedight   and  b*tt™again. 
equipped  for  the  encounter.     So  he  came  to  the  bridge-head 
and  there  King  Arthur  spake  to  him  in  this  wise  :   «  Sir  Pellmore,  we  do 


72 


THE    WINNING    OF  A    SWORD 


now  know  one  another  entirely  well,  and  each  doth  judge  that  he  hath  cause 
of  quarrel  with  the  other:  thou,  that  I,  for  mine  own  reasons  as  seemed 
to  me  to  be  fit,  have  taken  away  from  thee  thy  kingly  estate,  and  have 
driven  thee  into  this  forest  solitude :  I,  that  thou  has  set  thyself  up  here 
for  to  do  injury  and  affront  to  knights  and  lords  and  other  people  of  this 
kingdom  of  mine.  Wherefore,  seeing  that  I  am  here  as  an  errant  Knight, 
I  do  challenge  thee  for  to  fight  with  me,  man  to  man,  until  either  thou  or 
I  have  conquered  the  other." 

Unto  this  speech  King  Pellinore  bowed  his  head  in  obedience,  and  there- 
upon he  wheeled  his  horse,  and,  riding  to  some  little  distance,  took  his 
place  where  he  had  afore  stood.  And  King  Arthur  also  rode  to  some  lit- 
tle distance,  and  took  his  station  where  he  had  afore  stood.  At  the  same 
time  there  came  forth  from  the  castle  one  of  those  tall  pages  clad  all  in 
sable,  pied  with  crimson,  and  gave  to  King  Arthur  a  good,  stout  spear  of 
ash-wood,  well  seasoned  and  untried  in  battle ;  and  when  the  two  Knights 
were  duly  prepared,  they  shouted  and  drave  their  horses  together,  the  one 
smiting  the  other  so  fairly  in  the  midst  of  his  defences  that  the  spears 
shivered  in  the  hand  of  each,  bursting  all  into  small  splinters  as  they  had 
aforetime  done. 

Then  each  of  these  two  knights  immediately  voided  his  horse  with 
great  skill  and  address,  and  drew  each  his  sword.  And  thereupon  they 
fell  to  at  a  combat,  so  furious  and  so  violent,  that  two  wild  bulls  upon  the 
mountains  could  not  have  engaged  in  a  more  desperate  encounter. 

But  now,  having  Excalibur  for  to  aid  him  in  his  battle,  King  Arthur 
soon  vercame  his  enemy.  For  he  gave  him  several  wounds  and  yet  re- 
ceived none  himself,  nor  did  he  shed  a  single  drop  of  blood  in  all  that  fight, 
though  his  enemy's  armor  was  in  a  little  while  all  stained  with  crimson. 
Kin  Arthur  And  at  ^as^  King  Arthur  delivered  so  vehement  a  stroke  that 
overeometh  King  Pellinore  was  entirely  benumbed  thereby,  wherefore  his 

King  Pellinore.    SWQrd   and  hig   shidd  feu  d()wn    from  thdr  defence>  hig  thighs 

trembled  beneath  him  and  he  sank  unto  his  knees  upon  the  ground,  Then 
he  called  upon  King  Arthur  to  have  mercy,  saying,  "  Spare  my  life  and  I 
will  yield  myself  unto  thee." 

And  King  Arthur  said,  "  I  will  spare  thee  and  I  will  do  more  than  that. 
For  now  that  thou  hast  yielded  thyself  unto  me,  lo !  I  will  restore  unto 
thee  thy  power  and  estate.  For  I  bear  no  ill-will  toward  thee,  Pellinore, 
ne'theless,  I  can  brook  no  rebels  against  my  power  in  this  realm.  For,  as 
God  judges  me,  I  do  declare  that  I  hold  singly  in  my  sight  the  good  of 
the  people  of  my  kingdom.  Wherefore,  he  who  is  against  me  is  also 
against  them,  and  he  who  is  against  them  is  also  against  me.  But  now 


KING   ARTHUR  RIDES    THROUGH  THE  FOREST  73 

that  thou  hast  acknowledged  me  I  will  take  thee  into  my  favor.     Only  as 
a  pledge  of  thy  good  faith  toward  me  in  the  future,  I  shall  Ki     Arthur 
require  it  of  thee  that  thou  shalt  send  me  as  hostage  of  thy  demands  two  of 
good-will,  thy  two  eldest  sons,  to  wit :  Sir  Aglaval  and  Sir  %£$£?* 
Lamorack.     Thy  young  son,  Dornar,  thou  mayest  keep  with  hostase*' ' 
thee  for  thy  comfort." 

So  those  two  young  knights  above  mentioned  came  to  the  Court  of 
King  Arthur,  and  they  became  very  famous  knights,  and  by  and  by  were 
made  fellows  in  great  honor  of  the  Round  Table. 

And  King  Arthur  and  King  Pellinore  went  together  into  the  castle  of 
King  Pellinore,  and  there  King  Pellinore' s  wounds  were  dressed  and  he 
was  made  comfortable.  That  night  King  Arthur  abode  in  the  castle 
of  King  Pellinore,  and  when  the  next  morning  had  come,  he  and  Merlin 
returned  unto  the  Court  of  the  King,  where  it  awaited  him  in  the  forest 
at  that  place  where  he  had  established  it. 

Now  King  Arthur  took  very  great  pleasure  unto  himself  as  he  and  Mer- 
lin rode  together  in  return  through  that  forest ;  for  it  was  the  leanest  time 
of  all  the  year,  what  time  the  woodlands  decked  themselves  in  their  best 
apparel  of  clear,  bright  green.  Each  bosky  dell  and  dingle  was  full  of  the 
perfume  of  the  thickets,  and  in  every  tangled  depth  the  small  bird  sang 
with  all  his  might  and  main,  and  as  though  he  would  burst  his  little 
throat  with  the  melody  of  his  singing.  And  the  ground  beneath  the 
horses*  feet  was  so  soft  with  fragrant  moss  that  the  ear  could  not  hear  any 
sound  of  hoof-beats  upon  the  earth.  And  the  bright  yellow  sunlight  came 
down  through  the  leaves  so  that  all  the  ground  was  scattered  How  King 
over  with  a  great  multitude  of  trembling  circles  as  of  pure  Arthur  rode 

'     .  ,   r   . .    ,  through  the  for' 

yellow  gold.    And,  anon,  that  sunlight  would  fall  down  upon  est  with  great  joy 
the  armed  knight  as  he  rode,  so  that  every  little  while  his  and  delight. 
armor  appeared  to  catch  fire  with  a  great  glory,  shining  like  a  sudden 
bright  star  amid  the  dark  shadows  of  the  woodland. 

So  it  was  that  King  Arthur  took  great  joy  in  that  forest  land,  for  he 
was  without  ache  or  pain  of  any  sort  and  his  heart  was  very  greatly  elated 
with  the  wonderfulness  of  the  success  of  that  adventure  into  which  he  had 
entered.  For  in  that  adventure  he  had  not  only  won  a  very  bitter  enemy 
into  a  friend  who  should  be  of  great  usefulness  and  satisfaction  to  him,  but 
likewise,  he  had  obtained  for  himself  a  sword,  the  like  of  which  the  world 
had  never  before  beheld.  And  whenever  he  would  think  of  that  singularly 
splendid  sword  which  now  hung  by  his  side,  and  whenever  he  remembered 
that  land  of  Faery  into  which  he  had  wandered,  and  of  that  which  had  be- 


74 


THE    WINNING    OF  A    SWORD 


fallen  him  therein,  his  heart  would  become  so  greatly  elated  with  pure 
joyousness  that  he  hardly  knew  how  to  contain  himself  because  of  the 
great  delight  that  filled  his  entire  bosom. 

And,  indeed,  I  know  of  no  greater  good  that  I  could  wish  for  you  in  all 
of  your  life  than  to  have  you  enjoy  such  happiness  as  cometh  to  one  when 
he  hath  done  his  best  endeavor  and  hath  succeeded  with  great  entirety  in 
his  undertaking.  For  then  all  the  world  appears  to  be  filled  as  with  a 
bright  shining  light,  and  the  body  seemeth  to  become  so  elated  that  the 
feet  are  uplifted  from  heaviness  and  touch  the  earth  very  lightly  because 
of  the  lightness  of  the  spirit  within.  Wherefore,  it  is,  that  if  I  could  have  it 
in  my  power  to  give  you  the  very  best  that  the  world  hath  to  give,  I  would 
wish  that  you  might  win  your  battle  as  King  Arthur  won  his  battle  at  that 
time,  and  that  you  might  ride  homeward  in  such  triumph  and  joyousness 
as  filled  him  that  day,  and  that  the  sunlight  might  shine  around  you  as  it 
shone  around  him,  and  that  the  breezes  might  blow  and  that  all  the  little 
birds  might  sing  with  might  and  main  as  they  sang  for  him,  and  that  your 
heart  also  might  sing  its  song  of  rejoicing  in  the  pleasantness  of  the  world 
in  which  you  live. 

Now  as  they  rode  thus  through  the  forest  together,  Merlin  said  to  the 
King:  "  Lord,  which  wouldst  thou  rather  have,  Excalibur,  or  the  sheath 
that  holds  him?"  To  which  King  Arthur  replied,  "Ten  thousand  times 
would  I  rather  have  Excalibur  than  his  sheath."  "  In  that  thou  art  wrong, 
my  Lord,"  said  Merlin,  "for  let  me  tell  thee,  that  though  Excalibur  is  of 
so  great  a  temper  that  he  may  cut  in  twain  either  a  feather  or  a  bar 
of  iron,  yet  is  his  sheath  of  such  a  sort  that  he  who  wears  it 
can  suffer  no  wound  in  battle,  neither  may  he  lose  a  single 
drop  of  blood.  In  witness  whereof,  thou  mayst  remember 
that,  in  thy  late  battle  with  King  Pellinore,  thou  didst  suffer 
no  wound,  neither  didst  thou  lose  any  blood." 

Then  King  Arthur  directed  a  countenance  of  great  displeasure  upon  his 
companion  and  he  said,  "  Now,  Merlin,  I  do  declare  that  thou  hast  taken 
from  me  the  entire  glory  of  that  battle  which  I  have  lately  fought.  For 
what  credit  may  there  be  to  any  knight  who  fights  his  enemy  by  means  of 
enchantment  such  as  thou  tellest  me  of  ?  And,  indeed,  I  am  minded  to 
take  this  glorious  sword  back  to  that  magic  lake  and  to  cast  it  therein 
where  it  belongeth  ;  for  I  believe  that  a  knight  should  fight  by  means  of 
his  own  strength,  and  not  by  means  of  magic." 

"  My  Lord,"  said  Merlin,  "  assuredly  thou  art  entirely  right  in  what 
thou  holdest.  But  thou  must  bear  in  mind  that  thou  art  not  as  an  ordinary 
errant  knight,  but  that  thou  art  a  King,  and  that  thy  life  belongeth  not 


Merlin  tells 
King  Arthur 
of  the  virtues 
of Excalibur ', 
his  sheath. 


MERLIN  TELLS   OF  THE    VIRTUES   OF  EXCALIBUR  75 

unto  thee,  but  unto  thy  people.  Accordingly  thou  hast  no  right  to  im- 
peril it,  but  shouldst  do  all  that  lieth  in  thy  power  for  to  preserve  it. 
Wherefore  thou  shouldst  keep  that  sword  so  that  it  may  safeguard  thv 
life." 

Then  King  Arthur  meditated  that  saying  for  a  long  while  in  silence ; 
and  when  he  spake  it  was  in  this  wise :  "  Merlin,  thou  art  right  in  what 
thou  sayest,  and,  for  the  sake  of  my  people,  I  will  keep  both  Excalibur  for 
to  fight  for  them,  and  likewise  his  sheath  for  to  preserve  my  life  for  their 
sake.  Ne'theless,  I  will  never  use  him  again  saving  in  serious  battle." 
And  King  Arthur  held  to  that  saying,  so  that  thereafter  he  did  no  battle  in 
sport  excepting  with  lance  and  a-horseback. 

King  Arthur  kept  Excalibur  as  the  chiefest  treasure  of  all  his  posses- 
sions. For  he  said  to  himself,  "  Such  a  sword  as  this  is  fit  for  a  king  above 
other  kings  and  a  lord  above  other  lords.  Now,  as  God  hath  seen  fit  for 
to  intrust  that  sword  into  my  keeping  in  so  marvellous  a  manner  as  fell 
about,  so  must  He  mean  that  I  am  to  be  His  servant  for  to  do  unusual 
things.  Wherefore  I  will  treasure  this  noble  weapon  not  more  for  its  ex- 
cellent worth  than  because  it  shall  be  unto  me  as  a  sign  of  those  great 
things  that  God,  in  His  mercy,  hath  evidently  ordained  for  me  to  perform 
for  to  do  Him  service." 

So  King  Arthur  had  made  for  Excalibur  a  strong  chest  or  coffer,  bound 
around  with  many  bands  of  wrought  iron,  studded  all  over  with  great  nails 
of  iron,  and  locked  with  three  great  padlocks.  In  this  strong-box  he  kept 
Excalibur  lying  upon  a  cushion  of  crimson  silk  arid  wrapped  in  swathings 
of  fine  linen,  and  very  few  people  ever  beheld  the  sword  in  its  glory  ex- 
cepting when  it  shone  like  a  sudden  flame  in  the  uproar  of  battle. 

For  when  the  time  came  for  King  Arthur  to  defend  his  realm  or  his  sub- 
jects from  their  enemies,  then  he  would  take  out  the  sword,  and  fasten  it 
upon  the  side  of  his  body ;  and  when  he  did  so  he  was  like  unto  a  hero  of 
God  girt  with  a  blade  of  shining  lightning.  Yea ;  at  such  times  Excalibur 
shone  with  so  terrible  a  brightness  that  the  very  sight  thereof  would  shake 
the  spirits  of  every  wrong-doer  with  such  great  fear  that  he  would,  in  a 
manner,  suffer  the  pangs  of  death  ere  ever  the  edge  of  the  blade  had 
touched  his  flesh. 

So  King  Arthur  treasured  Excalibur  and  the  sword  remained  with  him 
for  all  of  his  life,  wherefore  the  name  of  Arthur  and  of  Excalibur  are  one. 
So,  I  believe  that  that  sword  is  the  most  famous  of  any  that  ever  was  seen 
or  heard  tell  of  in  all  the  Courts  of  Chivalry. 

As  for  the  sheath  of  the  blade,  King  Arthur  lost  that  through  the 


/6  THE    WINNING    OF  A    SWORD 

treachery  of  one  who  should,  by  rights,  have  been  his  dearest  friend  (as 
you  shall  hear  of  anon),  and  in  the  end  the  loss  of  that  miraculous  sheath 
brought  it  about  that  he  suffered  a  very  great  deal  of  pain  and  sorrow. 
All  that  also  you  shall  read  of,  God  willing,  in  due  season. 

So  endeth  the  story  of  the  winning  of  Excalibur,  and  may  God  give 
unto  you  in  your  life,  that  you  may  have  His  truth  to  aid  you,  like  a 
shining  sword,  for  to  overcome  your  enemies ;  and  may  He  give  you  Faith 
(for  Faith  containeth  Truth  as  a  scabbard  containeth  its  sword),  and  may 
that  Faith  heal  all  your  wounds  of  sorrow  as  the  sheath  of  Excalibur  healed 
all  the  wounds  of  him  who  wore  that  excellent  weapon.  For  with  Truth 
and  Faith  girded  upon  you,  you  shall  be  as  well  able  to  fight  all  your 
battles  as  did  that  noble  hero  of  old,  whom  men  called  King  Arthur. 


PART  III 
The  Winning  of  a  Queen 


£O,  having  told  you  how  King  Arthur  obtained  that  very  excellent  sword, 
Excalibur,  for  a  weapon  of  defence,  I  shall  now  presently  recount  sundry 
other  noble  and  knightly  adventures  whereby  he  won  for  himself  a  most  beauti- 
ful and  gentle  lady  for  his  Queen. 

For,  though  all  the  world  is  very  well  acquainted  with  the  renown  of  that 
perfectly  gracious  dame,  the  Lady  Guinevere,  yet  I  do  not  think  that  the  whole 
story  of  those  adventures  by  the  which  King  Arthur  won  her  good  favor  hath 
ever  yet  been  told. 

So  as  the  matter  hereinafter  to  be  related  contains  not  only  the  narrative  of 
that  affair,  but  also  the  account  of  a  certain  enchanted  disguise  which  King 
Arthur  assumed  for  his  purposes,  as  well  as  sundry  adventures  of  very  knightly 
daring  which  he  undertook,  I  have  great  hope  that  he  who  reads  what  I  have 
written  shall  find  it  both  an  agreeable  and  an  entertaining  history. 


Gttiwwteirjr 


Chapter  First. 


How  King  Arthur  Went  to  Tintagalon  with  Four  of  His  Court,  and 
How  He  Disguised  Himself  for  a  Certain  Purpose. 

NOW,  upon  a  certain  day  King  Arthur  proclaimed  a  high  feast, 
which  was  held  at  Carleon  upon  Usk.     Many  noble  guests  were 
bidden,  and  an  exceedingly  splendid  Court  gathered  at  the  King's 
castle.     For  at  that  feast  there  sat  seven  kings  and  five  queens  in  royal 
state,  and  there  were  high  lords  and   beautiful  ladies  of   degree,  to  the 
number  of  three  score  and  seven ;  and  there  were  a  multitude  of  those 
famous  knights  of  the  King's  Court  who  were  reckoned  the    ffow  King 
most  renowned  in  arms  in  all  of  Christendom.     And  of  all   Arthur  held  a 
this   great   gathering  of    kings,  lords,  and    knights,  not   one    £on  upo^Usk. 
man  looked  askance  at  his  neighbor,  but  all  were  united  in 
good  fellowship.     Wherefore,  when  the  young  King  looked  about  him  and 
beheld  such  peace  and  amity  among  all  these  noble  lords  where,  aforetime, 
had    been  discord   and    ill-regard  :  "  Certes,"  quoth  he  to  himself,  "  it  is 
wonderful  how  this  reign  of  mine  hath  knit  men  together  in  kindness  and 


8o  THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 

good  fellowship  ! "  And  because  of  such  thoughts  as  these,  his  spirit  took 
wings  like  unto  a  bird  and  sang  within  him. 

Now  while  the  King  sat  thus  at  feast,  lo !  there  came  an  herald-messenger 
from  the  west-country.  And  the  herald  came  and  stood  before  the  King, 
and  said  :  "  Greeting  to  thee,  King  Arthur  !  " 

Then  the  King  said:  "Speak,  and  tell  me,  what  is  thy  message  ?" 

To  which  the  herald  made  reply  :  "  I  come  from  King  Leodegrance  of 
Cameliard,  who  is  in  sore  trouble.  For  thus  it  is  :  His  enemy  and  thine 
enemy,  King  Ryence  of  North  Wales  (he  who  at  one  time  in  contempt 
of  thee  commanded  thee  to  send  him  thy  beard  for  to 
comes  "  trim  his  mantle),  doth  make  sundry  demands  of  my  master, 
King  Leodegrance,  which  demands  King  Leodegrance  is  al- 
together loath  to  fulfil.  And  King  Ryence  of  North  Wales 
threateneth  to  bring  war  into  Cameliard  because  King  Leodegrance  doth 
not  immediately  fulfil  those  demands.  Now  King  Leodegrance  hath  no 
such  array  of  knights  and  armed  men  as  he  one  time  had  gathered  about 
him  for  to  defend  his  kingdom  against  assault.  For,  since  thou  in  thy 
majesty  hath  brought  peace  to  this  realm  and  hath  reduced  the  power  of 
all  those  kings  under  thee,  those  knights  who  once  made  the  Court  of 
King  Leodegrance  so  famous  have  gone  elsewhither  for  to  seek  better 
opportunities  for  their  great  valor  and  prowess  at  arms  than  his  peaceful 
Court  may  afford.  Wherefore  my  master,  King  Leodegrance,  doth  be- 
seech aid  of  thee,  who  art  his  King  and  Overlord." 

To  these  things  that  the  herald-messenger  said,  King  Arthur,  and  all 
that  Court  that  feasted  with  him,  listened  in  entire  silence.  And  the 
King's  countenance,  which  erstwhiles  had  been  expanded  with  cheerful- 
ness, became  overcast  and  dark  with  anger.  "  Ha  !  "  he  cried,  "  this  is, 
verily,  no  good  news  that  thou  hast  brought  hither  to  our  feast.  Now  I 
will  give  what  aid  I  am  able  to  thy  master,  King  Leodegrance,  in  this 
extremity,  and  that  right  speedily.  But  tell  me,  sir  herald,  what  things 
are  they  that  King  Ryence  demandeth  of  thy  master?" 

"  That  I  will  tell  you,  Lord/'  quoth  the  herald-messenger.  •''  Firstly, 
King  Ryence  maketh  demand  upon  my  master  of  a  great  part  of  those 
lands  of  Cameliard  that  march  upon  the  borders  of  North  Wales.  Sec- 
ondly, he  maketh  demand  that  the  Lady  Guinevere,  the  King's  daughter, 
be  delivered  in  marriage  unto  Duke  Mordaunt  of  North  Umber,  who 
is  of  kin  unto  King  Ryence,  and  that  Duke,  though  a  mighty  warrior, 
is  so  evil  of  appearance,  and  so  violent  of  temper,  that  I  believe  that 
there  is  not  his  like  for  ugliness  or  for  madness  of  humor  in  all  of  the 
world." 


KING  ARTHUR  IS  ANGRY  81 

Now  when  King  Arthur  heard  this  that  the  messenger  said  he  was 
immediately  seized  with  an  extraordinary  passion  of  anger.    For  his  eyes 
appeared,  an  it  were,  to  shoot  forth  sparks  of  pure  light,  his  King  Arthur 
face  flamed  like  fire,  and  he  ground  his  teeth  together  like  the  is  mry  ansry 
stones  of  a  quern.     Then  he  immediately  rose  from  the  chair  "which™"/*** 
where  he  sat  and  went  forth  from  that  place,  and  all  those  who  herald '  brinseth- 
beheld  his  anger  shuddered  thereat  and  turned  their  eyes  away  from  his 
countenance. 

Then  King  Arthur  went  into  an  inner  room  of  the  castle  by  himself,  and 
there  he  walked  up  and  down  for  a  great  while,  and  in  that  time  no  one  of 
his  household  dared  to  come  nigh  to  him.  And  the  reason  of  the  King's 
wrath  was  this  :  that  ever  since  he  had  lain  wounded  and  sick  nigh  unto 
death  in  the  forest,  he  bare  in  mind  how  the  Lady  Guinevere  had  suddenly 
appeared  before  him  like  some  tall,  straight,  shining  angel  who  had  de- 
scended unto  him  out  of  Paradise — all  full  of  pity,  and  exceedingly  beau- 
tiful. Wherefore,  at  thought  of  that  wicked,  mad  Duke  Mordaunt  of 
North  Umber  making  demand  unto  marriage  with  her,  he  was  seized  with 
a  rage  so  violent  that  it  shook  his  spirit  like  a  mighty  wind. 

So,  for  a  long  while,  he  walked  up  and  down  in  his  wrath  as  aforesaid, 
and  no  one  durst  come  nigh  unto  him,  but  all  stood  afar  off,  watching  him 
from  a  distance. 

Then,  after  a  while,  he  gave  command  that  Merlin,  and  Sir  Ulfius,  and 
Sir  Kay  should  come  to  him  at  that  place  where  he  was.  And  when  they  had 
come  thither  he  talked  to  them  for  a  considerable  time,  bidding  Merlin  for 
to  make  ready  to  go  upon  a  journey  with  him,  and  bidding  Sir  Ulfius  and 
Sir  Kay  for  to  gather  together  a  large  army  of  chosen  knights  and  armed 
men,  and  to  bring  that  army  straightway  into  those  parts  coadjacent  to  the 
royal  castle  of  Tintagalon,  which  same  standeth  close  to  the  borders  of 
North  Wales  and  of  Cameliard. 

So  Sir  Ulfius  and  Sir  Kay  went  about  to  do  as  King  Arthur  com- 
manded,  and  Merlin  also  went  about  to  do  as  he  commanded  ;  and  the 
next  day  King  Arthur  and  Merlin,  together  with  certain  famous  knights 
of  the  King's  Court  who  were  the  most  approved  at  arms  of  all  those 
about  him— to  wit,  Sir  Gawaine,  and  Sir  Ewaine  (who  were  nephews 
unto  the  King),  and  Sir  Pellias  and  Sir  Geraint,  the  son  of  Erbin— set 
forth  for  Tintagalon  across  the  forest-land  of  Usk. 

So  they  travelled  for  all  that  day  and  a  part  of  the  next,  and   How  King  Ar_ 
that   without  adventure  or  misadventure  of  any  sort.      So   ttercamtto 
they  came,  at  last,  to  that  large  and  noble  castle,  hight  Tin- 
tagalon,  which  guards  the  country  bordering  upon  Cameliard  and  North 


82  THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 

Wales.  Here  King  Arthur  was  received  with  great  rejoicing  ;  for  whither- 
soever the  King  went  the  people  loved  him  very  dearly.  Wherefore  the 
folk  of  Tintagalon  were  very  glad  when  he  came  unto  them. 

Now  the  morning  after  King  Arthur  had  come  unto  Tintagalon  (the 
summer  night  having  been  very  warm),  he  and  Merlin  were  glad  to  arise 
betimes  to  go  abroad  for  to  enjoy  the  dewy  freshness  of  the  early  day- 
time. So,  in  the  cool  of  the  day,  they  walked  together  in  the  garden 
(which  was  a  very  pleasant  place),  and  beneath  the  shadow  of  a  tall,  straight 
tower.  And  all  around  about  were  many  trees  with  a  good  shade,  where 
the  little  birds  sang  sweetly  in  the  cheerfulness  of  the  summer  weather. 

And  here  King  Arthur  opened  his  mind  very  freely  to  Merlin,  and  he 
said :  "  Merlin,  I  do  believe  that  the  Lady  Guinevere  is  the  fairest  lady 
in  all  of  the  world ;  wherefore  my  heart  seems  ever  to  be  entirely  filled 
with  love  for  her,  and  that  to  such  a  degree  that  I  think  of  her  continu- 
ally by  day  (whether  I  be  eating,  or  drinking,  or  walking,  or  sitting  still, 
or  going  about  my  business),  and  likewise  I  dream  of  her  many  times  at 
night.  And  this  has  been  the  case  with  me,  Merlin,  ever  since  a  month 
ago,  when  I  lay  sick  in  that  hermit's  cell  in  the  forest,  what  time  she  came 
and  stood  beside  me  like  a  shining  angel  out  of  Paradise.  So  I  am  not 
willing  that  any  other  man  than  I  should  have  her  for  his  wife. 

"  Now  I  know  very  well  that  thou  art  wonderfully  cunning  in  those  arts 
of  magic  that  may  change  a  man  in  his  appearance  so  that  even  those  who 
Kin  Arthur  know  n^m  best  may  n°t  recognize  him.  Wherefore  I  very 
openeth  his  greatly  desire  it  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  so  disguise  me  that  I 
heart  to  Mer  m.  mav  gO>  unknOwn  of  any  man,  into  Cameliard,  and  that  I  may 
dwell  there  in  such  a  way  that  I  may  see  the  Lady  Guinevere  every  day. 
For  I  tell  thee  very  truly  that  I  greatly  desire  to  behold  her  in  such  a  wise 
that  she  may  not  be  in  any  way  witting  of  my  regard.  Likewise  I  would 
fain  see  for  myself  how  great  may  be  the  perils  that  encompass  King 
Leodegrance — the  King  being  my  right  good  friend." 

"  My  Lord  King,"  said  Merlin,  "  it  shall  be  as  thou  desirest,  and  this 
morning  I  will  cause  thee  to  be  so  disguised  that  no  one  in  all  the  world 
shall  be  able  to  know  thee  who  thou  art." 

So  that  morning,  a  little  before  the  prime,  Merlin  came  unto  the  King 
where  he  was  and  gave  him  a  little  cap.  And  the  cap  was  of  such  a  sort 
that  when  the  King  set  it  upon  his  head  he  assumed,  upon  the  instant,  the 
appearance  of  a  rude  and  rustic  fellow  from  the  country-side.  Then  the 
King  commanded  that  a  jerkin  of  rough  frieze  should  be  brought  to  him, 
and  with  this  he  covered  his  royal  and  knightly  vestments,  and  with  it  he 


KING  ARTHUR   COMES   TO    CAMELIARD  83 

hid  that  golden  collar  and  its  jewel,  pendent,  which  he  continually  wore 
about  his  neck.  Then,  setting  the  cup  upon  his  head,  he  assumed  at  once 
the  guise  of  that  peasant  hind. 

Whereupon,  being  thus  entirely  disguised,  he  quitted  Tin-  King  Arthur 
tagalon  unknown  of  any  man,  and  took  his  way  a-foot  unto  ^disgui^?**0" 
the  town  of  Cameliard. 

Now  toward  the  slanting  of  the  day  he  drew  nigh  to  that  place,  and  lo! 
he  beheld  before  him  a  large  and  considerable  town  of  many  comely 
houses  with  red  walls  and  shining  windows.  And  the  houses  of  the  town  sat 
ail  upon  a  high,  steep  hill,  the  one  overlooking  the  other,  and  the  town  itself 
was  encompassed  around  about  by  a  great  wall,  high  and  strong.  And  a 
great  castle  guarded  the  town,  and  the  castle  had  very  many  towers  and 
roofs.  And  all  round  about  the  tower  were  many  fair  gardens  and  lawns 
and  meadows,  and  several  orchards  and  groves  of  trees  with  thick  and 
pleasing  shade.  Now  at  that  time  of  the  day  the  sky  behind  the  tower 
was  all,  as  it  were,  an  entire  flame  of  fire,  so  that  the  towers  and  the  bat- 
tlements of  the  castle  and  the  roofs  and  the  chimneys  thereof  stood  alto- 
gether black  against  the  brightness  of  the  light.  And,  behold  !  great  flocks 
of  pigeons  encircled  the  towers  of  the  castle  in  a  continual  flight  against 
that  fiery  sky.  So,  because  King  Arthur  was  a-weary  with  walking  for  all 
that  day,  it  appeared  to  him  that  he  had  hardly  ever  beheld  in  all  of  his 
life  so  fair  and  pleasing  a  place  as  that  excellent  castle  with  its  gardens 
and  lawns  and  groves  of  trees. 

Thus  came  King  Arthur  unto  the  castle  of  Cameliard,  in  the   King  Arthur 

.  ,  ,  .        comes  to 

guise  of  a  poor  peasant  from  the  country-side,  and  no  man  in    Cameliard. 
all  of  the  world  knew  him  who  he  was. 

So,  having  reached  the  castle,  he  made  inquiries  for  the  head  gardener 
thereof ;  and  when  he  had  speech  with  the  gardener  he  besought  him  that 
he  might  be  taken  into  service  into  that  part  of  the  garden  that  appertained 
to  the  dwelling-place  of  the  Lady  Guinevere.  Then  the  gardener  looked 
upon  him  and  saw  that  he  was  tall  and  strong  and  well  framed,  wherefore 
he  liked  him  very  well  and  took  him  into  service  even  as  he  desired. 

And  thus  it  was  that  King  Arthur  of  Britain  became  a  gardener's  boy  at 
Cameliard. 

Now  the  King  was  very  glad  to  be  in  that  garden ;  for  in  this  pleasant 
summer  season  the  Lady  Guinevere  came  every  day  to  walk   King  Arthur 
with  her  damsels  among  the  flowers,  and  King  Arthur,  all   d™%ee%rass  boy 
disguised  as  a  peasant  gardener  boy,  beheld  her  very  many   atthecastu. 
times  when  she  came  thither. 


84  THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 

So  King  Arthur  abode  at  that  place  for  above  a  week,  and  he  took  no 
care  that  in  all  that  time  he  enjoyed  none  of  his  kingly  estate,  but  was  only 
gardener's  boy  in  the  castle  garden  of  Cameliard. 

Now  it  happened  upon  a  day  when  the  weather  was  very  warm,  that 
one  of  the  damsels  who  was  in  attendance  upon  the  Lady  Guinevere,  arose 
all  in  the  early  morning  whiles  the  air  was  still  cool  and  refreshing.  So, 
leaving  the  Lady  Guinevere  still  sleeping,  this  damsel,  whose  name  was 
Mellicene  of  the  White  Hand,  went  into  the  ante-room  and,  opening  the 
casement  thereof,  looked  forth  into  that  garden  of  roses  which  adjoined 
the  Lady  Guinevere's  bower. 

Now  there  was  at  that  place  a  carven  marble  figure  of  a  youth,  holding 
in  his  arms  a  marble  ewer,  and  a  fountain  of  water,  as  clear  as  crystal, 
flowed  out  from  the  ewer  into  a  basin  of  marble.  And  the  figure,  and  the 
fountain,  and  the  marble  basin  into  which  the  fountain  flowed  lay  beneath 
the  shadow  of  a  linden-tree.  And  all  around  was  a  thick  growth  of  roses, 
so  that  the  place  was  entirely  hidden,  saving  only  from  those  windows  of 
the  castle  that  were  above. 

So  it  befell  that  as  the  damsel  looked  down  thitherward  out  of  the 
window,  she  beheld  a  very  wonderful  sight.  For,  lo !  a  strange  knight 
The  damsel  be  kneeled  beside  the  fountain  and  bathed  his  face  and  his  bosom 
holds  a  knight  in  the  crystal  water  thereof.  And  the  damsel  saw  that  the 
at  the  fountain.  sunlight  fell  down  through  the  leaves  of  the  linden-tree  and 
lay  upon  that  strange  knight.  And  she  perceived  that  his  hair  and  his 
beard  were  of  the  color  of  red  gold — shining  surpassingly  in  the  bright- 
ness of  the  morning.  And  she  beheld  that  his  brow  and  his  throat  and 
his  bosom  were  white  like  alabaster.  And  she  beheld  that  around  his 
neck  and  shoulders  there  hung  a  golden  collar  of  marvellous  beauty,  so 
that  when  the  sunlight  shone  upon  it  it  flashed  like  pure  lightning. 

So,  beholding  this  strange  appearance — as  it  were  a  vision — the  damsel 
Mellicine  stood  for  a  long  while,  all  entranced  with  wonder  and  with  pleas- 
ure, and  wist  not  whether  that  which  she  saw  was  a  dream  or  no  dream, 
nor  whether  he  who  sat  there  was  a  spirit,  or  whether  he  was  a  man  of 
flesh  and  blood. 

Then,  by  and  by,  recovering  somewhat  from  her  astonishment,  she  with- 
drew herself  softly  from  the  casement,  and,  turning  about,  ran  fleetly  down 
the  turret  stairs,  and  so  came  out  thence  into  that  fair  and  blooming  gar- 
den at  the  foot  of  the  tower.  So  she  ran  through  the  garden  with  all 
speed  and  silence,  and  thus  came  down  an  alley-way  and  to  the  marble 
fountain  and  the  linden-trees  and  the  rose-trees  around  about  where  she 
had  anon  beheld  that  strange  knight  bathing  himself  in  the  crystal  waters. 


MELLICENE  AND    THE  KNIGHT  85 

But  King  Arthur  had  heard  the  coming  of  that  damsel,  and  had  speed- 
ily set  the  cap  upon  his  head  again.  So  that  when  the  damsel  Mellicene 
came  thither,  she  found  no  one  by  the  fountain  but  the  gar-  The  dams£ifind. 
dener's  boy.  Of  him  she  demanded  :  "  Who  art  thou,  fellow  ?  etk  onfy  tkega* 
And  why  sittest  thou  here  by  the  fountain  ?  "  *****  boy' 

And  unto  her  he  replied :  "  I  am  the  gardener's  lad  who  came  a  short 
time  ago  to  take  service  at  this  place." 

"  Then  tell  me,  fellow,"  quoth  she,  "and  tell  me  truly.  Who  was  that 
young  knight  who  was  here  beside  the  fountain  but  now,  and  whither 
hath  he  gone?"  "Lady,  whereunto,"  he  said,  "there  has  been  no  one  at 
this  fountain  this  day,  but  only  I." 

"  Nay,  fellow,"  she  cried,  "  thou  art  deceiving  me,  for  I  do  assure  thee 
that  with  mine  own  eyes  I  beheld  but  now,  where  a  strange  young  knight 
sat  bathing  himself  in  the  waters  of  this  fountain."  And  the  gardener's 
boy  said,  "  Lady,  that  which  I  have  told  you  is  the  very  truth,  for  indeed 
there  hath  no  one  been  here  this  morn  but  only  I.  Wherefore,  an  thou 
deemest  thou  hast  seen  anyone  else,  thou  art  certainly  mistaken." 

At  this  the  damsel  set  her  look  upon  him,  in  great  perplexity.  Like- 
wise, she  marvelled  very  greatly,  for  she  could  not  altogether  disbelieve 
him.  Nor  yet  could  she  entirely  believe  him  either,  because  her  eyes 
had  beheld  that  which  she  had  beheld,  and  she  wotted  that  she  had  not 
been  mistaken.  Therefore  she  knew  not  what  to  think,  and,  because  of 
her  perplexity,  she  felt  a  very  great  displeasure  at  that  gardener's  boy. 
"  Truly,  wherefore,"  she  said,  "  if  thou  art  deceiving  me,  I  shall  certainly 
cause  thee  to  suffer  a  great  deal  of  pain,  for  I  shall  have  thee  whipped 
with  cords."  Thereupon  she  turned  and  went  away  from  that  place, 
much  marvelling  at  that  strange  thing,  and  wondering  what  it  all  signified. 

That  morning  she  told  unto  the  Lady  Guinevere  all  that  she  had  seen, 
but  the  Lady  Guinevere  only  laughed  at  her  and  mocked  her,  telling  her 
that  she  had  been  asleep  and  dreaming,  when  she  beheld  that  vision.  And, 
indeed,  the  damsel  herself  had  begun  to  think  this  must  be  the  case. 
Nevertheless,  she  thereafter  looked  out  every  morning  from  her  casement 
window,  albeit  she  beheld  nothing  for  a  great  while,  for  King  Arthur  came 
not  soon  to  that  place  again. 

So,  by  and  by,  there  befell  another  certain  morning  when  she  looked 
out  of  the  casement  and,  lo  !  there  sat  that  strange  knight  by  the  fountain 
once  more  as  he  had  aforetime  sat.  And  he  bathed  his  face  and  his  bosom 
in  the  water  as  he  had  aforetime  done.  And  he  appeared  as  comely  and  as 
noble  as  he  had  appeared  before ;  and  his  hair  and  his  young  beard  shone 
like  gold  as  they  had  shone  before  in  the  sun.  And  this  time  she  beheld 


86  THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 

that  his  collar  of  gold  lay  upon  the  brink  of  the  fountain  beside  him,  and 
it  sparkled  with  great  splendor  in  the  sunlight  the  whiles  he  bathed  his 
bosom.  Then,  after  that  damsel  had  regarded  him  for  a  considerable  time, 
she  ran  with  all  speed  to  the  chamber  where  the  Lady  Guinevere  still  lay, 
and  she  cried  in  a  loud  voice,  "  Lady  !  lady  !  arouse  thee  and  come  with 
me  !  For,  lo  !  that  same  young  knight  whom  I  beheld  before,  is  even 
now  bathing  himself  at  the  fountain  under  the  linden-tree." 

Then  the  Lady  Guinevere,  greatly  marvelling,  aroused  herself  right 
quickly,  and,  dighting  herself  with  all  speed,  went  with  the  damsel  unto 
that  casement  window  which  looked  out  into  that  part  of  the  garden. 

And  there  she  herself  beheld  the  young  knight  where  he  laved  himself 
at  the  fountain.  And  she  saw  that  his  hair  and  his  beard  shone  like  gold  in 
the  sunlight  ;  and  she  saw  that  his  undervestment  was  of  pur- 
ple  linen  threaded  with  gold;  and  she  saw  that  beside  him 


the  knight  at        jay  ^^  cunningly  wrought  collar  of  gold  inset  with  many 

the  fountain.  .   J  .&  J  ~  J 

jewels  of  various  colors,  and  the  collar  shone  with  great 
splendor  where  it  lay  upon  the  marble  verge  of  the  fountain. 

Somewhiles  she  gazed,  exceedingly  astonished  ;  then  she  commanded 
the  damsel  Mellicene  for  to  come  with  her,  and  therewith  she  turned  and 
decended  the  turret  stairs,  and  went  quickly  out  into  the  garden,  as  her 
damsel  had  done  aforetime.  Then,  as  that  damsel  had  done,  she  straight- 
way hastened  with  all  speed  down  the  alley-way  toward  the  fountain. 

But,  behold  !  when  she  had  come  there,  she  found  no  young  knight,  but 
only  the  gardener  boy,  exactly  as  had  happened  with  the  damsel  Melli- 
cene aforetime.  For  King  Arthur  had  heard  her  coming,  and  had  imme- 
diately put  that  enchanted  cap  upon  his  head.  Then  the  Lady  Guinevere 
marvelled  very  greatly  to  find  there  only  the  gardener's  boy,  and  she  wist 
not  what  to  think  of  so  strange  a  thing.  Wherefore  she  demanded  of 
him,  even  as  Mellicene  had  done,  whither  had  gone  the  young  knight 
whom  she  had  beheld  anon  there  at  the  fountain.  And  unto  her  the  gar- 
dener lad  made  answer  as  aforetime  :  "  Lady  !  there  hath  been  no  one  at 
this  place  at  any  time  this  morning,  but  only  I." 

Now  when  King  Arthur  had  donned  his  cap  at  the  coming  of  the  Lady, 
he  had,  in  his  great  haste,  forgotten  his  golden  collar,  and  this  Guinevere 
beheld  where  it  lay  shining  very  brightly,  beside  the  margin  of  the  foun- 
tain. "  How  now  !  "  quoth  she.  "  Wouldst  thou  dare  to  make  a  mock 
of  me  ?  Now  tell  me,  thou  fellow,  do  gardeners'  boys  in  the  land  whence 
thou  didst  come  wear  golden  collars  about  their  necks  like  unto  that  collar 
that  lieth  yonder  beside  the  fountain  ?  Now,  an  I  had  thee  well  whipped, 
it  would  be  thy  rightful  due.  But  take  thou  that  bauble  yonder  and  give 


THE  KNIGHT  IS  DISCOVERED  87 

it  unto  him  to  whom  it  doth  rightfully  belong,  and  tell  him  from  me  that  it 
doth  ill  become  a  true  belted  knight  for  to  hide  himself  away  in  the  privy 
gardens  of  a  lady."  Then  turned  she  with  the  damsel  Mellicene,  and  left 
she  that  place  and  went  back  again  into  her  bower. 

Yet,  indeed  for  all  that  day,  as  she  sat  over  her  'broidery,  she  did  never 
cease  to  marvel  and  to  wonder  how  it  was  possible  that  that  strange  young 
knight  should  so  suddenly  have  vanished  away  and  left  only  the  poor 
gardener's  boy  in  his  stead.  Nor,  for  a  long  time,  might  she  unriddle  that 
strange  thing. 

Then,  of  a  sudden,  at  that  time  when  the  heat  of  the  day  was  sloping 
toward  the  cooler  part  of  the  afternoon,  she  aroused  herself  because  of  a 
thought  that  had  come  in  an  instant  unto  her.  So  she  called  the  damsel 
Mellicene  to  come  to  her,  and  she  bade  her  to  go  and  tell  the  gardener's 
lad  for  to  fetch  her  straightway  a  basket  of  fresh  roses  for  to  adorn  her 
tower  chamber. 

So  Mellicene  went  and  did  as  she  bade,  and  after  considerable  time  the 
gardener's  lad  came  bearing  a  great  basket  of  roses.  And,  lo !  he  wore 
his  cap  upon  his  head.  And  all  the  damsels  in  waiting 
upon  the  Lady  Guinevere,  when  they  saw  how  he  wore  his 
cap  in  her  presence,  cried  out  upon  him,  and  Mellicene  of 
the  White  Hand  demanded  of  him  :  "  What !  How  now,  Sir 
boor !  Dost  thou  know  so  little  of  what  is  due  unto  a  king's  daughter 
that  thou  dost  wear  thy  cap  even  in  the  presence  of  the  Lady  Guinevere  ? 
Now  I  bid  thee  straightway  to  take  thy  cap  off  thy  head." 

And  to  her  King  Arthur  made  answer:  "  Lady,  I  cannot  take  off  my 
cap." 

Quoth  the  Lady  Guinevere  :  "  And  why  canst  thou  not  take  off  thy  cap, 
thou  surly  fellow  ?  " 

"  Lady,"  said  he,  "  I  cannot  take  off  my  cap,  because  I  have  an  ugly  place 
upon  my  head." 

"Then  wear  thy  cap,"  quoth  the  Lady  Guinevere.  "  Only  fetch  thou 
the  roses  unto  me." 

And  so  at  her  bidding,  he  brought  the  roses  to  her.     But  when  he  had 
come   nigh  unto   the  lady,  she,  of   a  sudden,  snatched    at   the   cap   and 
plucked  it  off  from  his  head.     Then,  lo!  he  was   upon  the    TheLad?fGui. 
instant  transformed;  for  instead  of  the  gardener's  boy  there    nevere  discovers  • 
stood  before  the  Lady  Guinevere  and  her  damsel  the  appear-   ^f^taiL 
ance   of   a   noble   young   knight   with    hair  and    beard    like 
threads  of  gold.     Then  he  let  fall  his  basket  of  roses  so  that  the  flowers 
were  scattered  all  over  the  floor,  and  he  stood  and  looked  at  all  who  were 


88  THE    WINNING   OF  A    QUEEN 

there.  And  some  of  those  damsels  in  attendance  upon  the  Lady  Gui- 
nevere shrieked,  and  others  stood  still  from  pure  amazement  and  wist  not 
how  to  believe  what  their  eyes  beheld.  But  not  one  of  those  ladies  knew 
that  he  whom  she  beheld  was  King  Arthur.  Nevertheless  the  Lady 
Guinevere  remembered  that  this  was  the  knight  whom  she  had  found  so 
sorely  wounded,  lying  in  the  hermit's  cell  in  the  forest. 

Then  she  laughed  and  flung  him  back  his  cap  again.  "  Take  thy  cap," 
quoth  she,  "  and  go  thy  ways,  thou  gardener's  boy  who  hath  an  ugly  place 
upon  his  head."  Thus  she  said  because  she  was  minded  to  mock  him. 

But  King  Arthur  did  not  reply  to  her,  but  straightway,  with  great 
sobriety  of  aspect,  set  his  cap  upon  his  head  again.  So  resuming  his 
humble  guise  once  more,  he  turned  and  quitted  that  place,  leaving  those 
roses  scattered  all  over  the  floor  even  as  they  had  fallen. 

And  after  that  time,  whenever  the  Lady  Guinevere  would  come  upon  the 
gardener's  lad  in  the  garden,  she  would  say  unto  her  damsel  in  such  a  voice 
that  he  might  hear  her  speech:  "Lo!  yonder  is  the  gardener's  lad  who 
hath  an  ugly  place  upon  his  head  so  that  he  must  always  wear  his  cap  for 
to  hide  it." 

Thus  she  spake  openly,  mocking  at  him ;  but  privily  she  bade  her 
damsels  to  say  naught  concerning  these  things,  but  to  keep  unto  them- 
selves all  those  things  which  had  befallen. 


bobattU/ 


before  Cameliarb 


Chapter  Second. 


How  King  Ryence    Came   to   Cameliard  and  How   King  Arthur 
Fought  With  the  Duke  of  North  Umber. 

NOW,  upon  a  certain  day  at  this  time  there  came  a  messenger  to 
the  Court  of  King  Leodegrance,  with  news  that  King  Ryence  of 
North  Wales  and  Duke  Mordaunt  of  North  Umber  were  com- 
ing thither  and  that  they  brought  with  them  a  very  noble  and  considerable 
Court   of   knights    and    lords.     At   this   news   King   Leode- 
grance was  much  troubled  in  spirit,  for  he  wist  not  what  such 


a  visit  might  betoken  ;  and  yet  he  greatly  feared  that  it  boded  <**«**  comet* 
ill  for  him.     So  on  that  day  when  King  Ryence  and  the  Duke 
of  North  Umber  appeared  before  the  castle,  King  Leodegrance  went  forth 
to  greet  them  and  they  three  met  together  in  the  meadows  that  lie  be- 
neath the  castle  walls  of  Cameliard. 

There  King  Leodegrance  bade  those  others  welcome  in  such  manner  as 
was  fitting,  desiring  them  that  they  should  come  into  the  castle  with  him 
so  that  he  might  entertain  them  according  to  their  degree. 

But  to  this  courtesy  upon  the  part  of  King  Leodegrance,  King  Ryence 
deigned  no  pleasing  reply.     •'  Nay,"  quoth  he,  "  we  go  not  with  thee  into 
thy  castle,  King  Leodegrance,  until  we  learn  whether  thou  art  our  friend 
or  our  enemy.     For  just  now  we  are,  certes,  no  such  good  friends  with 
thee  that  we  care  to  sit  down  at  thy  table  and  eat  of  thy  salt.     Nor  may 
we  be   aught   but   enemies  of  thine   until   thou   hast   first  satisfied   our 
demands  ;  to  wit,  that  thou  givest  to  me  those  lands  which  I  demand  of 
thee  and  that  thou  givest  unto  my  cousin,  Duke  Mordaunt  of    The  King  and 
North  Umber,  the  Lady  Guinevere  to  be  his  wife.     In  these    ^eunkees/0nd 
matters  thou  hast  it  in  thy  power  to  make  us  either  thy  friends    King  Leodc- 
or  thine  enemies.    Wherefore  we  shall  abide  here,  outside  of  *rance- 
thy  castle,  for  five  days,  in  the  which  time  thou  mayst  frame  thine  answer, 
and  so  we  may  know  whether  we  shall  be  friends  or  enemies." 

"  And  in  the  meantime,"  quoth  Duke  Mordaunt  of  North  Umber,  "  I  do- 


9 2  THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 

hold  myself  ready  for  to  contest  my  right  unto  the  hand  of  the  Lady 
Guinevere  with  any  knight  of  thy  Court  who  hath  a  mind  to  deny  my 
just  title  thereto ;  and  if  thou  hast  no  knight  in  all  thy  Court  who  can 
successfully  assay  a  bout  of  arms  with  me,  thou  thyself  canst  hardly  hope 
to  succeed  in  defending  thyself  against  that  great  army  of  knights 
whom  King  Ryence  hath  gathered  together  to  bring  against  thee  in  case 
thou  denyest  us  that  which  we  ask." 

Then  was  King  Leodegrance  exceedingly  cast  down  in  his  spirits,  for  he 
feared  those  proud  lords  and  he  wist  not  what  to  say  in  answer  to  them. 
Wherefore  he  turned  and  walked  back  into  his  castle  again,  beset  with 
great  anxiety  and  sorrow  of  spirit.  And  King  Ryence,  and  Duke  Mor- 
daunt  and  their  Court  of  lords  and  knights  pitched  their  pavilions  in  those 
meadows  over  against  the  castle,  so  that  the  plain  was  entirely  covered 
with  those  pavilions.  And  there  they  took  up  their  inn  with  great  rejoicing 
and  with  the  sound  of  feasting  and  singing  and  merry-making,  for  it  was 
an  exceeding  noble  Court  King  Ryence  had  gathered  about  him. 

And  when  the  next  morning  had  come  Duke  Mordaunt  of  North  Umber 
went  forth  clad  all  in  armor  of  proof.  And  he  rode  up  and  down  the 
field  before  the  castle  and  gave  great  challenge  to  those  within  ;  daring 
any  knight  to  come  forth  for  to  meet  him  in  knightly  encounter.  u  Ho !  " 
he  cried,  "  how  now,  ye  Knights  of  Cameliard  !  Is  there  no  one  to  come 
forth  to  meet  me?  How  then  may  ye  hope  to  contend  with  the  Knights 
of  North  Wales,  an  ye  fear  to  meet  with  one  single  Knight  from  North 
.  Umber?  "  So  he  scoffed  at  them  in  his  pride,  and  none  darec 

Duke  Mordaunt  r        i      r  ^  •  •       i  •          i  •  V-          i       T^    i 

rides  before  the  to  come  forth  from  Cameliard  against  him.  For  the  Duke  o2 
castle.  North  Umber  was  one  of  the  most  famous  knights  of  his  day, 

and  one  of  exceeding  strength  and  success  at  arms,  and  there  was  now,  in 
these  times  of  peace,  no  one  of  King  Leodegrance's  Court  who  was  at  all 
able  to  face  a  warrior  of  his  approved  skill  and  valor.  Wherefore,  no  one 
took  up  that  challenge  which  the  Duke  of  North  Umber  gave  to  the 
Court  of  Cameliard.  Meantime  many  people  gathered  upon  the  walls  of 
Cameliard  and  gazed  down  therefrom  upon  that  proud  and  haughty  duke, 
all  bedight  in  his  splendid  armor,  and  all  were  grieved  and  ashamed  that 
there  was  no  one  in  that  peaceful  town  to  go  out  against  him.  And  all 
the  lords  and  knights  of  King  Ryence's  Court  came  and  stood  in  front 
of  the  King's  pavilion  and  laughed  and  clapped  their  hands  together,  and 
cheered  Duke  Mordaunt,  as  he  so  rode  up  and  down  before  them.  And 
the  greater  they  were  expanded  with  mirth,  the  more  abashed  were  the 
people  of  Cameliard.  "  Ho!  Ho!"  cried  that  proud  Duke.  "  How  now  ! 
Will  no  one  come  forth  to  meet  me  ?  How  then  may  ye  of  Cameliard  hope 


KING  ARTHUR  FINDS  ARMOR  93 

to  face  the  King  of  North  Wales  and  all  his  knightly  array  of  which  I  am 
but  one  man  ?  "  And  the  people  of  Cameliard,  gathered  upon  the  walls, 
listened  to  him  with  shame  and  sorrow. 

Now  all  this  while  King  Arthur  digged  in  the  garden;  but,  nevertheless, 
he  was  well  aware  of  everything  that  passed  and  of  how  that  the  Duke  of 
North  Umber  rode  up  and  down  so  proudly  before  the  castle  walls.  So, 
of  a  sudden,  it  came  to  him  that  he  could  not  abide  this  any  longer.  Where- 
fore he  laid  aside  his  spade  and  went  out  secretly  by  a  postern  way,  and 
so  up  into  the  town. 

Now  there  was  in  Cameliard  an  exceedingly  rich  merchant,  by  name 
Ralph  of  Cardiff,  and  the  renown  of  his  possessions  and  his  high  estate  had 
reached  even  unto  King  Arthur's  ears  at  Carleon.  Accordingly  it  was  unto 
his  house  that  King  Arthur  directed  his  steps. 

And  while  he  was  in  a  narrow  way,  not  far  from  the  merchant's  house, 
he  took  off  his  magic  cap  of  disguise  and  assumed  somewhat  of  his  noble 
appearance  once  more,  for  he  was  now  of  a  mind  to  show  his  knightliness 
unto  those  who  looked  upon  him.     Accordingly,  when  he  stood  before  the 
rich  merchant  in  his  closet,  and  when  the  merchant  looked  up  ^ing  Arthur 
into  his  face,  he  wist  not  what  to  think  to  behold  so  noble  a  seeks  armor  to  do 
lord  clad  all  in  frieze.     For  though  King  Arthur  was  a  stran- 
ger to  the  good  man,  so  that  he  knew  not  his  countenance,  yet  that  mer- 
chant wist  that  he  was  no  ordinary  knight,  but  that  he  must  assuredly  be 
one  of  high  degree  and  in  authority,  even  though  he  was  clad  in  frieze. 

Then  King  Arthur  opened  the  breast  of  his  jerkin  and  showed  the  mer- 
chant the  gold  collar  that  hung  around  his  neck.  And  also  he  showed  be- 
neath the  rough  coat  of  frieze  how  that  there  was  an  undergarment  of  fine 
purple  silk  embroidered  with  gold.  And  then  he  showed  to  the  good  man 
his  own  signet  ring,  and  when  the  merchant  saw  it,  he  knew  it  to  be  the 
ring  of  the  King  of  Britain.  Wherefore,  beholding  these  tokens  of  high 
and  lordly  authority,  the  merchant  arose  and  stood  before  the  King  and 
doffed  his  cap. 

"  Sir  Merchant,"  quoth  the  King,  "  know  that  I  am  a  stranger  knight  in 
disguise  in  this  place.  Ne'theless,  I  may  tell  thee  that  I  am  a  very  good 
friend  to  King  Leodegrance  and  wish  him  exceeding  well.  Thou  art 
surely  aware  of  how  the  Duke  of  North  Umber  rides  continually  up  and 
down  before  the  King's  castle,  and  challenges  anyone  within  to  come 
forth  for  to  fight  against  him  in  behalf  of  the  Lady  Guinevere.  Now  I  am 
of  a  mind  to  assay  that  combat  mine  own  self,  and  I  hope  a  very  great  deal 
that  I  shall  succeed  in  upholding  the  honor  of  Cameliard  and  of  bringing 
shame  upon  its  enemies. 


94  THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 

"  Sir  Merchant,  I  know  very  well  that  thou  hast  several  suits  of  noble  ar- 
mor in  thy  treasury,  for  the  fame  of  them  hath  reached  unto  mine  ears 
though  I  dwell  a  considerable  distance  from  this  place.  Wherefore  I  de- 
sire that  thou  shalt  provide  me  in  the  best  manner  that  thou  art  able  to  do, 
so  that  I  may  straightway  assay  a  bout  of  arms  with  that  Duke  of  North 
Umber.  Moreover,  I  do  pledge  thee  my  knightly  word  that  thou  shalt 
be  fully  recompensed  for  the  best  suit  of  armor  that  thou  canst  let  me 
have,  and  that  in  a  very  little  while." 

"  My  Lord,"  said  Master  Ralph,  "  I  perceive  that  thou  art  no  ordinary 
errant  knight,  but  rather  someone  of  extraordinary  estate ;  wherefore  it  is 
a  very  great  pleasure  to  fulfil  all  thy  behests.  But  even  an  thou  wert 
other  than  thou  art,  I  would  be  altogether  willing  to  equip  thee  with  ar- 
mor, seeing  that  thou  hast  a  mind  to  ride  forth  against  yonder  duke." 

Upon  this  he  rang  a  little  silver  bell  that  stood  nigh  to  him,  and  in  an- 
swer to  its  sound  several  attendants  immediately  appeared.  Into  their 
hands  he  intrusted  the  person  of  the  King,  bidding  them  to  do  him  extra- 
ordinary honor.  Accordingly,  certain  of  those  attendants  prepared  for 
the  King  a  bath  of  tepid  water  perfumed  with  ambergris,  very  grateful  to 
the  person.  And  after  he  was  bathed  in  this  bath  and  was  wiped  with  soft 
linen  towels,  other  attendants  conducted  him  to  a  hall  all  hung  with  tapes- 
tries and  'broideries,  and  at  this  place  a  noble  feast  had  been  spread  ready 
for  his  refreshment.  Here  that  lordly  merchant  himself  ministered  to  the 
King's  wants,  serving  him  with  various  meats — very  dainty,  and  of  several 
sorts — and  likewise  with  fine  white  bread.  And  he  poured  him  wine  of 
various  countries — some  as  red  as  ruby,  others  as  yellow  as  gold  ;  and  in- 
deed the  King  had  hardly  ever  enjoyed  a  better  feast  than  that  which  the 
merchant,  Ralph  of  Cardiff,  had  thus  spread  for  him. 

And  after  he  had  entirely  refreshed  himself  with  eating,  there  came  six 
pages  richly  clad  in  sarsanet  of  azure,  and  these,  taking  the  King  to  an 
apartment  of  great  state,  they  there  clad  him  in  a  suit  of  Spanish  armor, 
King  Arthur  is  verv  cunningly  wrought  and  all  inlaid  with  gold.  And  -the 
armed  by  Ralph  like  of  that  armor  was  hardly  to  be  found  in  all  of  the  land. 
The  juppon  and  the  several  trappings  of  the  armor  were  all 
of  satin  and  as  white  as  milk.  And  the  shield  was  white,  and  altogether 
without  emblazonment  or  device  of  any  sort.  Then  these  attendants  con- 
ducted the  King  into  the  courtyard,  and  there  stood  a  noble  war-horse,  as 
white  as  milk,  and  all  the  trappings  of  the  horse  were  of  milk-white  cloth 
without  emblazonment  or  adornment  of  any  sort ;  and  the  bridle  *\nd  the 
bridle  rein  were  all  studded  over  with  bosses  of  silver. 

Then  after  the  attendants  had  aided  King  Arthur  to  mount  this  steed, 


KING  ARTHUR  RIDES   TO  BATTLE  95 

the  lordly  merchant  came  forward  and  gave  him  many  words  of  good 
cheer,  and  so  the  king  bade  him  adieu  and  rode  away,  all  shining  in  white 
and  glittering  in  fine  armor,  wherefore  he  resembled  the  full  moon  in 
harvest  season. 

And  as  he  drave  down  the  stony  streets  of  the  town,  the  people  turned 
and  gazed  after  him,  for  he  made  a  very  noble  appearance  as  he  passed 
along  the  narrow  way  between  the  houses  of  the  town. 

So  King  Arthur  directed  his  way  to  the  postern  gate  of  the  castle,  and, 
having  reached  that  place,  he  dismounted  and  tied  his  horse.  Then  he 
straightway  entered  the  garden,  and  there,  finding  an  attendant,  he  made 
demand  that  he  should  have  present  speech  with  the  Lady  Guinevere.  So 
the  attendant,  all  amazed  at  his  lordly  presence,  went  and  delivered  the 
message,  and  by  and  by  the  Lady  Guinevere  came,  much  wondering,  and 
passed  along  a  gallery  with  several  of  her  damsels,  until  she  had  come 
over  above  where  King  Arthur  was.  And  when  King  Arthur  looked  up 
and  saw  her  above  him,  he  loved  her  exceeding  well.  And  he  said  to 
her  :  "  Lady,  I  have  great  will  to  do  thee  such  honor  as  I  am  able.  For  I 
go  forth  now  to  do  combat  with  that  Duke  of  North  Umber  who  rides  up 
and  down  before  this  castle.  Moreover,  I  hope  and  verily  believe  that  I 
shall  encompass  his  downfall;  accordingly,  I  do  beseech  of  thee  some 
token,  such  as  a  lady  may  give  unto  a  knight  for  to  wear  when  that  knight 
rides  forth  to  do  her  honor." 

Then  the  Lady    Guinevere  said :    "  Certes,  Sir  Knight,  I  would  that  I 
knew  who  thou  art.     Yet,  though  I  know  not,  nevertheless  I 
am  altogether  willing  for  to  take  thee  for  my  champion  as 
thou  offerest.     So,  touching  that   token  thou  speakest  of,  if   King  Arthur 
thou  wilt  tell  me  what  thing  it  is  that  thou  desirest,  I  will  ^0^r 
gladly  give  it  to  thee." 

"  An  that  be  so,  Lady,"  said  King  Arthur,  "  I  would  fain  have  that  neck- 
lace that  thou  wearest  about  thy  throat.  For,  meseems  that  if  I  had  that 
tied  about  my  arm,  I  would  find  my  valor  greatly  increased  thereby." 

"  Pardee,  Sir  Knight,"  said  the  Lady,  "  what  thou  desirest  of  me  thou 
shalt  assuredly  have."  Thereupon  speaking,  she  took  from  her  long, 
smooth  neck  the  necklace  of  pearls  which  she  wore,  and  dropped  the  same 
down  to  King  Arthur  where  he  stood. 

And  King  Arthur  took  the  necklace  and  tied  it  about  his  arm,  and  he 
gave  great  thanks  for  it.  Then  he  saluted  the  Lady  Guinevere  with  very 
knightly  grace,  and  she  saluted  him,  and  then,  straightway,  he  went  forth 
from  that  place,  greatly  expanded  with  joy  that  the  Lady  Guinevere  had 
shown  him  such  favor. 


96  THE    WINNING   OF  A    QUEEN 

Now  the  report  had  gone  about  Cameliard  that  a  knight  was  to  go 
forth  to  fight  the  Duke  of  North  Umber.  Wherefore  great  crowds  gath- 
ered upon  the  walls,  and  King  Leodegrance  and  the  Lady  Guinevere  and 
ail  the  Court  of  the  King  came  to  that  part  of  the  castle  walls  overlooking 
the  meadow  where  the  Duke  of  North  Umber  defended.  Wherefore,  so 
great  a  concourse  was  presently  assembled,  that  any  knight  might  be  en- 
couraged to  do  his  utmost  before  such  a  multitude  as  that  which  looked 
down  upon  the  field. 

Then  of  a  sudden  the  portcullis  of  the  castle  was  lifted,  and  the  bridge 
let  fall,  and  the  White  Champion  rode  forth  to  that  encounter  which  he 
had  undertaken.  And,  as  he  drave  across  that  narrow  bridge,  the  hoofs  of 
his  war-horse  smote  the  boards  with  a  noise  like  to  thunder,  and  when  he 
came  out  into  the  sunlight,  lo!  his  armor  flamed  of  a  sudden  like  unto 
lightning,  and  when  the  people  saw  him  they  shouted  aloud. 

Then  when  the  Duke  of  North  Umber  beheld  a  knight  all  clad  in  white, 
he  rode  straightway  to  him  and  spoke  to  him  with  words  of  knightly 
greeting.  "  Messire,"  he  said,  "  I  perceive  that  thou  bearest  no  crest  upon 
thy  helm,  nor  hast  thou  a  device  of  any  sort  upon  thy  shield,  wherefore  I 
know  not  who  thou  art.  Ne'theless,  I  do  believe  that  thou  art  a  knight 
of  good  quality  and  of  approved  courage,  or  else  thou  wouldst  not  have 
thus  come  to  this  place." 

"  Certes,  Sir  Knight,"  said  King  Arthur,  "  I  am  of  a  quality  equal  to 
thine  own.  And  as  for  my  courage,  I  do  believe  that  it  hath  been  ap- 
proved in  as  many  encounters  as  even  thine  own  hath  been." 

"  Sir  Knight,"  quoth  the  Duke  of  Umber,  "thou  speakest  with  a  very 
large  spirit.  Ne'theless,  thou  mayst  make  such  prayers  as  thou  art  able, 
for  I  shall  now  presently  so  cast  thee  down  from  thy  seat,  so  that  thou 
shalt  never  rise  again ;  for  so  have  I  served  better  men  than  ever  thou 
mayst  hope  to  be." 

To  this  King  Arthur  made  answer  with  great  calmness  of  demeanor : 
"  That  shall  be  according  to  the  will  of  Heaven,  Sir  Knight,  and  not  ac- 
cording to  thy  will." 

So  each  knight  saluted  the  other  and  rode  to  his  assigned  station,  and 
there  each  dressed  his  spear  and  his  shield,  and  made  him  ready  for  the 
King  Arthur  encounter.  Then  a  silence  fell  upon  all  so  great  that  a  man 
overthrows  Duke  might  hear  his  own  heart  beat  in  the  stillness.  So,  for  a 
small  space,  each  knight  sat  like  a  statue  made  of  iron.  Then, 
of  a  sudden,  each  shouted  to  his  war-horse,  and  drave  spurs  into  his  flank, 
and  launched  forth  from  his  station.  And  so  they  met  in  the  midst  of  the 
course  with  a  noise  like  unto  a  violent  thunder-clap.  And  lo !  the  spear  of 


KING  ARTHUR  IS    VICTORIOUS  9? 

the  Duke  of  North  Umber  burst  into  splinters  unto  the  very  truncheon 
thereof;  but  the  spear  of  King  Arthur  broke  not,  but  held,  so  that  the 
Duke  was  cast  out  of  his  saddle  like  a  windmill— whirling  in  the  air  and 
smiting  the  earth  so  that  the  ground  shuddered  beneath  him.  And 
indeed  he  rolled  full  three  times  over  and  over  ere  he  ceased  to  fall. 

Then  all  the  people  upon  the  wall  shouted  with  might  and  main,  so  that 
the  noise  thereof  was  altogether  astonishing ;  for  they  had  hardly  hoped 
that  their  champion  should  have  proved  so  extraordinarily  strong  and 
skilful. 

Meanwhile,  those  of  King  Ryence's  Court  ran  immediately  to  the  Duke 
of  Umber  where  he  lay  upon  the  earth,  and  they  straightway  unlaced  his 
helm  for  to  give  him  air.  And  first  they  thought  that  he  was  dead,  and 
then  they  thought  that  he  was  like  to  die ;  for,  behold !  he  lay  without  any 
life  or  motion.  Nor  did  he  recover  from  that  swoon  wherein  he  lay  for 
the  space  of  full  two  hours  and  more. 

Now  whilst  the  attendants  were  thus  busied  about  Duke  Mordaunt  of 
North  Umber,  King  Arthur  sat  his  horse,  very  quietly,  observing  all 
that  they  did.  Then,  perceiving  that  his  enemy  was  not  dead,  he  turned 
him  about  and  rode  away  from  that  place. 

Nor  did  he  return  unto  Cameliard  at  that  time,  for  he  deemed  that  he 
had  not  yet  entirely  done  with  these  enemies  to  the  peace  of  his  realm, 
wherefore  he  was  minded  not  yet  to  return  the  horse  and  the  armor  to 
the  merchant,  but  to  keep  them  for  a  while  for  another  occasion. 

So  he  bethought  him  of  how,  coming  to  Cameliard,  he  had  passed 
through  an  arm  of  the  forest  where  certain  wood-choppers  were  at  work 
felling  the  trees.  Wherefore,  remembering  that  place,  he  thought  that  he 
would  betake  him  thither  and  leave  his  horse  and  armor  in  the  care  of 
those  rude  folk  until  he  would  need  those  things  once  more.  So  now  he 
rode  away  into  the  country-side,  leaving  behind  him  the  town  and  the 
castle  and  all  the  noise  of  shouting  and  rejoicing ;  nor  did  he  once  so  much 
as  turn  his  head  to  look  back  toward  that  place  where  he  had  so  violently 
overthrown  his  enemy. 

And  now  you  shall  presently  hear  of  certain  pleasant  adventures  of  a 
very  joyous  sort  that  befell  him  ere  he  had  accomplished  all  his  purposes. 
For  when  a  man  is  a  king  among  men,  as  was  King  Arthur,  then  is  he  of 
such  a  calm  and  equal  temper  that  neither  victory  nor  defeat  may  cause 
him  to  become  either  unduly  exalted  in  his  own  opinion  or  so  troubled  in 
spirit  as  to  be  altogether  cast  down  into  despair.  So  if  you  would  become 
like  to  King  Arthur,  then  you  shall  take  all  your  triumphs  as  he  took  this 


98 


THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 


victory,  for  you  will  not  be  turned  aside  from  your  final  purposes  by  the 
great  applause  that  many  men  may  give  you,  but  you  will  first  finish  your 
work  that  you  have  set  yourself  to  perform,  ere  you  give  yourself  ease  to 
sit  you  down  and  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  your  victory. 

Yea,  he  who  is  a  true  king  of  men,  will  not  say  to  himself,  "  Lo !  I  am 
worthy  to  be  crowned  with  laurels ; "  but  rather  will  he  say  to  himself, 
"  What  more  is  there  that  I  may  do  to  make  the  world  the  better  because 
of  my  endeavors  ?  " 


Champion  meets 
troo  Knights  at  fy  MiH 


t  Chapter  Third. 

How  King  Arthur  Encountered  Four  Knights  and  of  What 

Befell  Thereby. 

NOW,  the  day  was  extraordinarily  sweet  and  pleasant  unto  one  so 
lusty  of  frame  and  so  lithe  of  heart  as  was  good  King  Arthur. 
For  the  bright  clouds  swam  smoothly  across  the  blue  sky  in 
prodigious  volumes  of  vapor,  and  the  wind  blew  across  the  long  grass  of 
the  meadow  lands,  and  across  the  fields  of  growing  wheat,  so  that  a  multi- 
tude of  waves  travelled  over  the  hills  and  valleys  like  an  it  were  across  an 
entire  sea  of  green.  And  now  all  the  earth  would  be  darkened  with  wide 
shadows  from  those  clouds,  and,  anon,  everything  would  burst  out,  of  a 
sudden,  into  a  wonderful  radiance  of  sunlight  once  more.  And  the  little 
birds  they  sang  all  gayly  in  the  hedge-rows  and  the  leafy  thickets  as  though 
they  would  burst  their  tiny  throats  with  singing,  and  the  cock  crowed, 
strong  and  lusty,  from  the  farm  croft,  and  all  was  so  blithe  and  comely 
that  the  young  King,  with  the  visor  of  his  helmet  uplifted  to  the  refresh- 
ment of  the  gentle  breeze,  would  sometimes  carol  very  joyously  in  his 
journeying.  So  travelled  King  Arthur  in  all  that  gay  and  tender  sum- 
mer season,  when  the  earth  was  young  and  the  time  was  of  long-gone-by. 

Now,  you  are  to  remember  that  when  King  Arthur  had  come  from 
Carleon  unto  the  castle  of  Tintagalon,  he  had  brought  with  him  four 
young  knights  for  to  bear  him  company.  And  those  knights  aforesaid 
were  as  follows :  There  was  Sir  Gawaine,  the  son  of  King  Lot  and  of 
Queen  Margai.se,  and  there  was  Sir  Ewaine,  the  son  of  King  Uriens  and 
of  Queen  Morgana  la  Fay  (and  these  two  were  nephews,  half  in  blood, 
unto  the  King),  and  there  was  Sir  Pellias,  and  there  was  Sir  Geraint,  the 
son  of  Erbin.  These  were  the  four  noble  young  knights  who  had  come 
with  King  Arthur  from  Camelot  unto  Tintagalon. 

Now  it  befell,  as  King  Arthur  rode  all  gayly  in  the  summer  time  as  afore- 
said, that  he  came  to  a  certain  part  of  the  road  where  he  beheld  before 


102  THE    WINNING   OF  A    QUEEN 

him  a  tall  and  comely  tower  that  stood  upon  a  green  hillock  immediately 
by  the  roadside.  And  lo !  there  stood  upon  the  balcony  of  that  tower 
King  Arthur  three  fair  demoiselles,  clad  all  in  green  taffeta.  And  on  the 
Cometh  upon  a  high  road  in  front  of  the  castle  there  was  a  knight  clad  all  in 
*tainingnthe~  very  fine  armor.  And  the  knight  sat  upon  a  noble  war- 
ladies  in  green,  horse,  and  in  his  hands  he  held  a  lute,  and  he  played  upon  the 
lute  and  sang  in  a  voice  of  extraordinary  sweetness.  Whiles  he  sang  those 
three  ladies  in  green  taffeta  listened  to  him  with  great  cheerfulness  of 
mien.  And  whenever  that  knight  would  stint  his  singing,  then  those 
three  ladies  would  clap  their  hands  together  with  great  acclaim,  and  would 
bid  him  to  sing  to  them  again ;  and  so  he  would  do  with  great  readiness 
of  spirit. 

All  this  King  Arthur  beheld,  and  it  appeared  to  him  to  be  a  very  pleas- 
ant sight,  wherefore  he  rejoiced  at  it  exceedingly. 

And  as  he  drew  nigh,  lo !  he  beheld  that  the  knight  who  thus  sat  upon 
his  horse  and  played  upon  the  lute  and  sang  unto  the  accompaniment  thereof, 
was  none  other  than  Sir  Geraint,  the  son  of  Erbin.  For  that  knight  wore 
upon  his  crest  the  figure  of  a  gryphon,  and  the  device  upon  his  shield  was 
two  gryphons  rampant  facing  one  another  upon  a  field  azure,  and  King 
Arthur  knew  that  this  was  the  crest  and  the  device  of  Sir  Geraint.  And 
when  the  King  perceived  who  was  the  knight  who  sat  there  and  sang,  he 
laughed  unto  himself  and  straightway  closed  his  visor  and  made  him  ready 
for  such  encounter  as  might,  perchance,  befall.  So  he  drew  nigh  to 
where  the  knight  sang  and  the  ladies  listened. 

Now  when  Sir  Geraint  perceived  King  Arthur  approach,  he  ceased 
singing  and  hung  up  his  lute  behind  him  across  his  shoulder.  Then,  cast- 
ing upward  his  look  to  those  three  fair  ladies  above  him,  quoth  he :  "  Mes- 
dames,  ye  have  been  pleased  to  listen  to  that  singing  which  I  have  assayed 
altogether  in  your  honor.  Now,  likewise,  in  your  honor,  I  will  perform  a 
deed  of  knightly  prowess  which  I  very  much  hope  shall  bring  great  glory 
to  you.  For,  if  ye  will  be  pleased  to  lend  me  that  encouragement  which 
your  very  great  beauty  can  so  easily  afford,  ye  shall  behold  me,  I  doubt 
not,  overthrow  yonder  knight  completely,  and  that  to  your  great  credit 
and  renown." 

"  Sir  Knight,"  said  that  lady  who  spoke  for  the  others,  "  you  are,  truly,  a 
lord  of  noble  bearing  and  exceedingly  pleasing  of  address,  wherefore  we 
do  wish  you  great  success  in  this  undertaking ;  and  we  do  believe  that  you 
will  succeed  in  that  which  you  assay  to  do." 

Upon  these  Sir  Geraint  gave  those  three  demoiselles  great  thanks  for 
their  words,  and  thereupon  he  closed  the  visor  of  his  helmet.  So,  dressing 


KING  ARTHUR    OVERTHROWS  SIR   GERAINT  103 

his  spear  and  shield,  and  saluting  those  three  ladies  with  great  humility  of 
demeanor,  he  went  forth  to  meet  King  Arthur  where  he  now  sat  at  a  little 
distance,  very  quietly  and  soberly  awaiting  his  pleasure. 

Now  Sir  Geraint  knew  not  King  Arthur  because  he  wore  no  crest  upon 
his  helm  and  no  device  upon  his  shield,  wherefore  as  he  saluted  him  he  made 
speech  to  him  in  this  wise  :  "  Ha !  Messire,  I  know  not  who  thou  art,  see- 
ing that  thou  bearest  neither  crest  nor  device.  Ne'theless,  I  am  minded 
to  do  thee  such  honor  as  I  may  in  running  a  tilt  with  thee  upon  the  behalf 
of  those  three  demoiselles  whom  thou  beholdest  yonder  upon  that  balcony. 
For  I  do  affirm,  and  am  ready  to  maintain  the  same  with  my  knightly  per- 
son, that  those  ladies  are  fairer  than  thy  lady,  whomsoever  she  may  be." 

"  Sir  Knight,"  quoth  King  Arthur,  "  I  will  gladly  run  a  course  with 
thee  in  honor  of  my  lady  ;  for,  I  may  tell  thee,  she  is  a  princess,  and  is 
held  by  many  to  be  the  most  beautiful  dame  in  all  of  the  world.  But  I 
will  only  contend  with  thee  upon  one  condition,  and  the  condition  is  this — 
that  he  who  is  overthrown  shall  yield  himself  as  servant  unto  the  other  for 
seven  days,  and  in  that  time  he  shall  do  all  that  may  be  required  of  him." 

"  I  will  accept  thy  gage,  Sir  Unknown  Knight,"  quoth  Sir  Geraint, 
"  and  when  I  have  overthrown  thee,  I  will  yield  thee  unto  those  fair  ladies 
yonder  for  to  be  their  servant  for  seven  days.  And  I  do  tell  thee  that 
there  are  a  great  many  knights  who  would  certainly  regard  that  as  being 
both  a  pleasant  and  an  honorable  task." 

"  And  should  I  so  chance  as  to  overthrow  thee,"  said  King  Arthur,  "  I 
will  send  thee  for  to  serve  my  lady  for  that  same  period  of  time,  and  that 
will  be  even  a  pleasanter  and  a  more  honorable  task  than  that  which  thou 
hast  a  mind  for  me  to  perform." 

So  each  knight  saluted  the  other,  and  thereupon  each  took  such  a  stand 
as  should  cast  the  encounter  immediately  beneath  where  those  three  fair 
demoiselles  looked  down  from  the  balcony.    Then  each  knight    King  Arthur 
dressed  his  spear  and  his  shield,  and,  having  made  ready  for    overthrows  Sir 
the  encounter,  each  sat  for  a  small  space  entirely  prepared. 
Then  each  shouted  to  his  war-horse,  and  drave  spur  into  its  flank,  and 
launched  forth  with  wonderful  speed  to  the  assault.     So  they  met  in  the 
very  midst  of  the  course  with  a  force  so  vehement  that  the  noise  thereof 
was  wonderfully  appalling  for  to  hear.     And  each  knight  smote  the  other 
in  the  very  centre  of  his  defences.    And,  lo !  the  spear  of  Sir  Geraint  burst 
into  small  pieces,  even  to  the  truncheon  thereof ;  but  the  spear  of  King 
Arthur  held,  and  Sir  Geraint  was  cast  so  violently  backward  that  bot 
he  and  his  horse  were  overthrown  into  the  dust  with  a  tumult  like  to  a 
monstrous  roaring  of  thunder. 


io4  THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 

And  when  Sir  Geraint  had  recovered  his  footing,  he  was,  for  awhile,  so 
astonished  that  he  wist  not  where  he  stood,  for  never  had  he  been  so  over- 
thrown in  all  of  his  life  before.  Then,  coming  quickly  unto  himself  again,  he 
straightway  drew  forth  his  sword  and  called  upon  King  Arthur  with  ex- 
ceeding vehemence  for  to  come  down  from  out  of  his  saddle,  and  to  fight 
him  afoot. 

"  Nay,  not  so,  Sir  Knight,"  said  King  Arthur,  "  I  will  not  have  to  do 
with  thee  in  that  way.  Moreover,  thou  art  not  to  forget  that  thou  hast 
promised  to  give  thyself  unto  me  as  my  servant  for  seven  days,  for,  assur- 
edly, I  have  entirely  overcome  thee  in  this  encounter,  and  now  thou  art 
pledged  unto  me  to  be  my  servant." 

Then  Sir  Geraint  knew  not  what  to  say,  being  altogether  abashed  with 
shame  and  vexation  at  his  overthrow.  Ne'theless,  he  perceived  that  he 
must  uphold  his  knightly  word  unto  that  which  he  had  pledged  himself  to 
do  ;  wherefore,  he  put  up  his  sword  again,  though  with  exceeding  discon- 
tent. "  Sir  Knight,"  said  he,  "  I  do  acknowledge  myself  to  have  been  over- 
come in  this  encounter,  wherefore  I  yield  myself  now  unto  thy  commands, 
according  to  my  plighted  word." 

"  Then  I  do  place  my  commands  upon  thee  in  this  wise,"  quoth  King 
Arthur.  "  My  command  is,  that  thou  goest  straightway  unto  the  Lady 
Guinevere  at  Cameliard,  and  that  thou  tellest  her  that  thou 
nast  been  overthrown  by  that  knight  to  whom  she  gave  her 


raint  to  the  Lady  necklace  as  a  token.  Moreover,  I  do  desire  that  thou  shalt 
obey  her  in  everything  that  she  may  command  thee  to  do, 
and  that  for  the  space  of  seven  days  to  come." 

"  Sir  Knight,"  quoth  Sir  Geraint,  "  that  which  thou  biddest  me  to  do, 
I  will  perform  according  to  thy  commands." 

Thereupon  he  mounted  his  horse  and  went  his  way.  And  King  Arthur 
went  his  way.  And  those  three  ladies  who  stood  upon  the  balcony  of  the 
castle  were  exceedingly  glad  that  they  had  beheld  so  noble  an  assay-at- 
arms  as  that  which  they  had  looked  down  upon. 

Now,  after  King  Arthur  had  travelled  forward  for  the  distance  of  two 
or  three  leagues  or  more,  he  came  to  a  certain  place  of  moorlands,  where 
were  many  ditches  of  water,  and  where  the  heron  and  the  marsh-hen 
sought  harborage  in  the  sedge.  And  here,  at  sundry  points,  were  several 
windmills,  with  their  sails  all  turning  slowly  in  the  sunlight  before  a  wind 
which  blew  across  the  level  plains  of  ooze.  And  at  this  place  there  was  a 
long,  straight  causeway,  with  two  long  rows  of  pollard  willows,  one  upon 
either  hand.  Now,  when  he  had  come  nigh  the  middle  of  this  causeway, 
King  Arthur  perceived  two  knights,  who  sat  their  horses  in  the  shade  of 


KING  ARTHUR  ENCOUNTERS  TWO  KNIGHTS  ,05 

a  great  windmill  that  stood  upon  one  side  of  the  roadway.  And  a  large 
shadow  of  the  sails  moved  ever  and  anon  across  the  roadway  as  the  wheel 
of  the  mill  turned  slowly  afore  the  wind.  And  all  about  the  mill,  and 
everywhere  about,  were  great  quantities  of  swallows  that  darted  hither  and 
thither  like  bees  about  a  hive  in  midsummer.  And  King  Arthur  saw  that 
those  two  knights,  as  they  sat  in  the  shadow  of  the  mill,  were  eating  of  a 
great  loaf  of  rye  bread,  fresh  baked  and  of  brittle  crust  ;  and  they  ate  fair 
white  cheese,  which  things  the  miller,  all  white  with  dust,  served  to  them. 
But  when  these  two  knights  perceived  King  Arthur,  they  immediately 
ceased  eating  that  bread  and  cheese,  and  straightway  closed  their  helmets. 
As  for  the  miller,  when  he  saw  them  thus  prepare  themselves,  he  went 
quickly  back  into  the  mill  and  shut  the  door  thereof,  and  then  went  and  looked 
out  of  a  window  which  was  over  above  where  the  knights  were  standing. 

But  King  Arthur  made  very  merry  unto  himself  when  he  perceived  that 
those  two  knights  were  Sir  Gawaine  and  Sir  Ewaine.     For  he  knew  that 
the  one  was  Sir  Gawaine  because  that  the  crest  of  his  helmet 
was  a  leopard  rampant,  and  because  he  bore  upon  his  shield   eomftk  upo^two 
the  device  of  a  leopard  rampant  upon  a  field  gules ;  and  he   ^>$£.ff the 
knew  that  the  other  was  Sir  Ewaine,  because  he  bore  upon 
his  crest  an  unicorn,  and  because  the  device  upon  his  shield  was  that  of  a 
lady  holding  a  naked  sword  in  her  hand,  which  same  was  upon  a  field  or. 
Accordingly,  whiles  he  was  yet  at  some  distance,  King  Arthur  closed  his 
helmet  so  that  those  two  young  knights  might  not  know  who  he  was. 

So,  when  he  had  come  anear  to  the  two  knights,  Sir  Gawaine  rode 
forward  for  a  little  distance  for  to  meet  him.  "  Sir  Knight,"  quoth  he, 
"  thou  must  know  that  this  is  soothly  parlous  ground  whereon  thou  hast 
ventured  ;  for  there  is  no  byway  hence  across  the  morass,  and  thou  mayst 
not  go  forward  without  trying  a  tilt  with  me." 

"  Sir  Knight,"  said  King  Arthur,  "  and  I  am  very  willing  to  run  a  tilt 
with  thee.  Ne'theless,  I  will  only  encounter  thee  upon  one  condition,  and 
that  is  this  :  that  he  who  is  overthrown  shall  serve  the  other  entirely  for 
the  space  of  seven  full  days." 

"  I  do  accept  thy  gage,  Sir  Knight,"  quoth  Sir  Gawaine.  For  he  said 
unto  himself,  "  Of  a  surety,  so  exceedingly  strong  and  skilful  a  knight  as 
I  shall  easily  encompass  the  overthrow  of  this  unknown  knight." 

So  each    knight   immediately  took  his  appointed  station,  and  having 
dressed  his  spear  and  his  shield,  and  having  fully  prepared    Xing  Arthur 
himself  in  every  manner,  and  having  rested  for  a  little  space,    °^^s  sir 
each  suddenly  shouted  to  his  horse,  and  drave  spur  into  the 
flanks  thereof,  and  so  rushed  to  the  encounter.     And  each  knight  smote 


io6 


THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 


the  other  in  the  midst  of  his  defence,  and  lo !  the  spear  of  Sir  Gawaine 
burst  into  fragments.  But  the  spear  of  King  Arthur  held,  so  that  Sir  Ga- 
waine was  lifted  entirely  out  of  his  saddle  and  over  the  crupper  of  his 
horse.  And  indeed  he  fell  with  wonderful  violence  into  the  dust.  Nor 
could  he  immediately  rise  from  that  fall,  but  lay  all  bedazed  for  a  little 
while.  And  when  he  did  arise,  he  perceived  that  the  white  knight  who 
had  overthrown  him  sat  nigh  to  him  upon  his  horse. 

Then  King  Arthur  spake  and  said :  "  Sir  Knight,  I  have  altogether  over- 
thrown thee,  and  so  thou  must  now  serve  me  according  to  thy  knightly 
word." 

Then  up  spake  Sir  Ewaine,  who  sat  nearby  upon  his  horse.  "  Not  so,. 
Sir  Knight,"  he  said  ;  "  not  so,  nor  until  thou  hast  had  to  do  with  me. 
For  I  do  make  demand  of  thee  that  thou  shalt  straightway  joust  with  me. 
And  if  I  overthrow  thee  I  will  claim  of  thee  that  thou  shalt  release  my 
cousin  from  that  servitude  unto  which  he  hath  pledged  himself.  But  if 
thou  overthrowst  me,  then  will  I  serve  thee  even  as  he  hath  pledged 
himself  to  serve  thee." 

"  Sir  Knight,"  said  King  Arthur,  "  I  do  accept  thy  gage  with  all  readi- 
ness of  spirit ! " 

So  each  knight  took  his  assigned  place  and  dressed  himself  for  the 
Then  they  shouted,  and  drave  together,  rushing  the  one  upon 
the  other  like  unto  two  rams  upon  the  hillside.  And  the 
spear  of  Sir  Ewaine  was  also  shivered  into  pieces.  But  King 
Arthur's  spear  held,  so  that  the  girths  of  Sir  Ewaine's  saddle 
were  burst  apart,  and  both  the  saddle  and  the  knight  were  swept  off  the 
horse's  back  with  such  violence  that  a  tower  falling  could  not  have  made 
a  greater  noise  than  did  Sir  Ewaine  when  he  smote  the  dust  of  that 
causeway. 

Then  Sir  Ewaine  arose  to  his  feet  and  gazed  upon  him,  all  filled  with 
entire  amazement.  To  him  came  King  Arthur,  and  bespake  him  thus: 
King  Arthur  "  Ha,  Sir  Knight,  meseems  that  thou  hast  been  fairly  over- 
come this  day.  And  so,,  according  to  your  promises,  both 
thou  and  yonder  other  knight  must  fulfil  all  my  commands 
for  the  space  of  full  seven  days  to  come.  Now  this  is  the  com- 
mand that  I  set  upon  ye  both :  that  ye  shall  straightway  go  unto  the 
Lady  Guinevere  at  Cameliard  and  shall  take  her  greeting  from  her  knight. 
And  ye  shall  say  to  her  that  her  knight  unto  whom  she  gave  her  necklace, 
hath  sent  ye,  who  are  King's  sons,  for  to  do  obedience  unto  her.  And  all 
that  she  shall  command  ye  to  do  in  the  space  of  these  seven  days  that  are 
to  come,  that  shall  ye  perform  even  unto  the  smallest  grain." 


encounter. 

King  Arthur 
overthrows  Sir 
Ewaine. 


sendeth  the  two 
knights  to  the 
Lady  Guine- 
vere, 


KING   ARTHUR    OVERTHROWS  SIR  PELLIAS 


IO1 


"  Sir  Knight,"  said  Sir  Gawaine,  "  so  we  will  do  according  to  thy  com- 
mands, having  pledged  ourselves  thereunto.  But  when  these  seven  days 
are  passed,  I  do  make  my  vow  that  I  shall  seek  thee  out  and  shall  carry 
this  combat  unto  its  entire  extremity.  For  it  may  happen  to  any  knight 
to  be  unhorsed  as  I  have  been,  yet  I  do  believe  that  I  may  have  a  better 
success  with  thee  an  I  battle  with  thee  to  the  extremity  of  my  endeavor." 

"Sir  Knight,"  said  King  Arthur,  "it  shall  be  even  as  thou  desirest. 
Yet  I  do  verily  believe  that  when  these  seven  days  are  passed  thou  wilt 
not  have  such  a  great  desire  for  to  fight  with  me  as  thou  now  hast." 

Having  so  spoken,  King  Arthur  saluted  those  two  knights  and  they 
saluted  him.  And  then  he  turned  his  horse  and  went  his  way.  And 
whenever  he  bethought  him  of  how  those  two  good  knights  had  fallen 
before  his  assault,  and  when  he  thought  of  how  astonished  and  abashed 
they  had  been  at  their  overthrow,  he  laughed  aloud  for  pure  mirth,  and 
vowed  unto  himself  that  he  had  never  in  all  of  his  life  engaged  in  so  joyous 
an  adventure  as  this. 

So  when  Sir  Ewaine  had  mended  the  girths  of  his  saddle  then  he  and 
Sir  Gawaine  mounted  their  horses  and  betook  their  way  toward  Cameliard 
much  cast  down  in  spirits. 

Then  the  miller  came  forth  from  the  mill  once  more,  greatly  rejoiced  at 
having  beheld  such  a  wonderfully  knightly  encounter  from  so  safe  a  place 
as  that  from  which  he  had  beheld  it. 

And  so  King  Arthur  rode  onward  with  great  content  of  mind  until  the 
slanting  of  the  afternoon  had  come,  and  by  that  time  he  had  come  nigh  to 
that  arm  of  the  forest-land  which  he  had  in  mind  as  the  proper  place 
where  he  might  leave  his  horse  and  his  armor. 

Now  as  he  drew  nigh  to  this  part  of  the  forest  skirts,  he  perceived 
before  him  at  the  roadside  a  gnarled  and  stunted  oak-tree.  And  he  per- 
ceived that  upon  the  oak-tree  there  hung  a  shield,  and  that  underneath  the 
shield  were  written  these  words  in  fair  large  letters : 

"  l&batfa  amift  tb  upon  tine;  fibtclU 
£)oet&  00  at  t&e  peril  of  (i*  fcotop." 

Then  King  Arthur  was  filled  with  a  great  spirit,  and,  uplifting  his  spear, 
he  smote  upon  that  shield  so  that  it  rang  like  thunder. 

Then  immediately  King  Arthur  heard  a  voice  issue  out  of  the    ^gg/fjg*^ 
forest  crying,  "  Who  hath  dared  to  assail  my  shield  !  "    And    ™  ^  White 
straightway  there  came  out  thence  a  knight  of  large  frame,  rid-    Knight. 
ing  upon  a  horse  white,  like  that  which  King  Arthur  himself 
rode.     And  the  trappings  of  the  horse  and  of  the  knight  were  all  white  like 


io8  THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 

unto  the  trappings  of  King  Arthur  and  his  horse.  And  the  knight  bore 
upon  his  helmet  as  his  crest  a  swan  with  outspread  wings,  and  upon  his 
shield  he  bore  the  emblazonment  of  three  swans  upon  a  field  argent.  And 
because  of  the  crest  and  the  emblazonment  of  the  shield,  King  Arthur 
knew  that  this  knight  was  Sir  Pellias,  who  had  come  with  him  from  Game- 
lot  to  Tintagalon. 

So  when  Sir  Pellias  had  come  nigh  to  where  King  Arthur  waited  for 
him,  he  drew  rein  and  bespake  him  with  great  sternness  of  voice  :  "  Ho  t 
Ho !  Sir  Knight,"  quoted  he.  "  Why  didst  thou  dare  to  smite  upon  my 
shield !  Verily,  that  blow  shall  bring  thee  great  peril  and  dole.  Now, 
prepare  to  defend  thyself  straightway  because  of  what  thou  hast 
done." 

"  Stay !  Stay !  Sir  Knight,"  said  King  Arthur,  "  it  shall  be  as  thou  wouldst 
have  it;  and  I  will  do  combat  with  thee.  Yet  will  I  not  assay  this  ad- 
venture until  thou  hast  agreed  that  the  knight  who  is  overcome  in  the 
encounter  shall  serve  the  other  in  whatsoever  manner  that  other  may 
desire,  for  the  space  of  one  se' night  from  this  time." 

"  Sir  Knight,"  said  Sir  Pellias,  "  I  do  accept  that  risk,  wherefore  I  bid 
thee  now  presently  to  prepare  thyself  for  the  encounter." 

Thereupon  each  knight  took  his  station  and  dressed  his  spear  and  shield. 
And  when  they  had  prepared  themselves,  they  immediately  launched  to- 
gether with  a  violence  like  to  two  stones  cast  from  a  catapult.  So  they 
met  in  the  midst  of  the  course,  and  again  King  Arthur  was  entirely  suc- 
cessful in  that  assault  which  he  made.  For  the  spear  of  Sir  Pellias  burst 
Kin  Arthur  to  P^eces»  an(*  tne  sPear  of  King  Arthur  held  ;  and  Sir  Pellias 
overthrows  Sir  was  cast  with  passing  violence  out  of  his  saddle  for  the  dis- 
Peihas.  tance  of  more  than  half  a  spear's  length  behind  the  crupper 

of  his  horse.  Nor  did  he  altogether  recover  from  that  fall  for  a  long  time, 
so  that  King  Arthur  had  to  wait  beside  him  for  a  considerable  while  ere 
he  was  able  to  lift  himself  up  from  the  ground  whereon  he  lay. 

"  Ha!  Sir  Knight,"  said  King  Arthur,  "assuredly  it  hath  not  gone  well 
with  thee  this  day,  for  thou  hast  been  entirely  overthrown  and  now  thou 
must  straightway  redeem  thy  pledge  to  serve  me  for  seven  days  hereafter. 
Wherefore,  I  now  set  it  upon  thee  as  my  command,  that  thou  shalt  go 
straightway  unto  Cameliard,  and  that  thou  shalt  greet  the  Lady  Guinevere 
from  me,  telling  her  that  her  knight  unto  whom  she  gave  her 

King  Arthur  .  .         '.  r    »  •      •         i  -r  . , 

sendeth  sir        necklace  hath  been  successful  in  battle  with  thee.     Likewise  I 
set  ^  uPon  tnee  tnat  tnou  shalt  obey  her  for  the  space  of  seven 
days  in  whatsoever  she  may  command  thee  to  do." 
"  Sir  Knight,"  said   Sir  Pellias,  "  it  shall  even  be  as  thou  dost  ordain, 


THE  LADY  GUINEVERE  IS  PLEASED  109 

Yet  I  would  that  I  knew  who  thou  art,  for  I  do  declare  that  I  have  never 
yet  in  all  my  life  been  overthrown  as  thou  hast  overthrown  me.  And,  in- 
deed, I  think  that  there  are  very  few  men  in  the  world  who  could  serve 
me  as  thou  hast  served  me." 

"  Sir  Knight,"  said  King  Arthur,  "  some  time  thou  shalt  know  who  I  am. 
But,  as  yet,  I  am  bound  to  entire  secrecy." 

Thereupon  he  saluted  Sir  Pellias  and  turned  and  entered  the  forest  and 
was  gone. 

And  Sir  Pellias  mounted  his  horse  and  betook  him  to  Cameliard,  much 
cast  down  and  disturbed  in  spirit,  yet  much  marvelling  who  that  knight 
could  be  who  had  served  him  as  he  had  been  served. 

So  that  day  there  came  to  Cameliard,  first  Sir  Geraint  and  then  Sir 
Gawaine  and  Sir  Ewaine,  and  last  of  all  there  came  Sir  Pellias.  And  when 
these  four  beheld  one  another  they  were  all  abashed  so  that  one  scarce 
dared  to  look  the  other  in  the  face.  And  when  they  came  before  the 
Lady  Guinevere  and  made  their  condition  known  to  her,  and  told  her  how 
that  knight  who  wore  her  necklace  had  overthrown  them  all 
and  had  sent  them  thither  to  serve  her  for  a  se'night,  and  Guinevere  is 
when  she  reckoned  how  great  and  famous  were  those  four  pleased  with  her 
knights  in  deeds  of  chivalry,  she  was  exceedingly  exalted 
that  her  knight  should  have  approved  himself  so  great  in  those  deeds  of 
arms  which  he  had  undertaken  to  perform.  But  she  greatly  marvelled 
who  that  champion  could  be,  and  debated  those  things  in  her  own  mind. 
For  it  was  a  thing  altogether  unheard  of  that  one  knight,  in  one  day,  and 
with  a  single  spear,  should  have  overthrown  five  such  well  proved  and 
famous  knights  as  Duke  Mordaunt  of  North  Umber,  Sir  Geraint,  Sir 
Gawaine,  Sir  Ewaine,  and  Sir  Pellias.  So  she  gave  herself  great  joy  that 
she  had  bestowed  the  gift  of  her  necklace  upon  so  worthy  a  knight,  and 
she  was  exceedingly  uplifted  with  extraordinary  pleasure  at  the  thought 
of  the  credit  he  had  endowed  her  withal. 

Now  after  King  Arthur  had  entered  the  forest,  he  came  by  and  by  to 
where  those  wood-choppers,  afore  spoken  of,  plied  their  craft.     And  he 
abided  with  them  for  that  night;  and  when  the  next  morning  had  come, 
he  intrusted  them  with  his  horse  and  armor,  charging   them   to   guard 
those  things  with  all  care,  and  that  they  should  be  wonder-    j^ingArthur 
fully  rewarded  therefor.     Then  he  took  his  departure  from    resumes  his 
that  place  with  intent  to  return  unto  Cameliard.     And  he  was 
clad  in  that  jerkin  of  frieze  which  he  had  worn  ever  since  he  had  left  Tin- 
tagalon. 


I  10 


THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 


And  when  he  had  reached  the  outskirts  of  the  forest,  he  set  his  cap  of 
disguise  upon  his  head  and  so  resumed  his  mean  appearance  once  more. 
So,  his  knightliness  being  entirely  hidden,  he  returned  to  Cameliard  for 
to  be  gardener's  boy  as  he  had  been  before. 


our  Knights  sem 


Chapter  Fourth. 

How  the  Four  Knights  Served  the  Lady  Guinevere. 

NOW,  when  King  Arthur  returned  to  Cameliard  once  more  (which 
fell  upon  the  afternoon  of  a  second  day),  he  found  the  gardener 
waiting  for  him,  exceedingly  filled  with  wrath.  And  the  gar- 
dener had  a  long  birchen  rod  which  he  had  fetched  thither  for  to  punish 
his  boy  withal,  when  that  he  should  have  returned  to  the  garden  again. 
So  when  he  saw  King  Arthur  he  said :  "  Thou  knave  !  where- 
fore didst  thou  quit  thy  work  to  go  a-gadding  ?  "  And  King 
Arthur  laughed  and  said  :  "  Touch  me  not."  At  this,  the 
gardener  waxed  so  exceeding  wroth,  that  he  catched  the  King  by  the 
collar  of  his  jerkin  with  intent  to  beat  him,  saying :  "  Dost  thou  laugh  at 
me,  knave,  and  make  a  mock  at  me?  Now  I  will  beat  thee  well  for  the 
offence  thou  hast  committed." 

Then,  when  King  Arthur  felt  that  man's  hand  laid  upon  him,  and  when 
he  heard  the  words  that  the  gardener  spake  in  his  wrath,  his  royal  spirit 
waxed  very  big  within  him  and  he  cried  out :  "  Ha,  wretch  !  wouldst  thou 
dare  to  lay  thy  hands  upon  my  sacred  person?  "  So  saying,  he  seized  the 
gardener  by  the  wrists,  and  took  the  rod  straight  away  from  him,  and 
struck  him  with  it  across  the  shoulders.  And  when  that  poor  knave  felt 
himself  thus  in  the  powerful  grasp  of  the  angry  King,  and  when  he  felt 
the  rod  upon  his  shoulders,  he  straightway  lifted  up  a  great  outcry,  albeit 
the  blow  hurt  him  not  a  whit.  "  Now  get  thee  gone!"  quoth  King  Ar- 
thur, "and  trouble  me  no  more  ;  else  will  I  serve  thee  in  a  way  that  will 
not  at  all  belike  thee."  Herewith  he  loosed  that  poor  man  and  let  him  go ; 
and  the  gardener  was  so  bemazed  with  terror,  that  both  the  earth  and  the 
sky  swam  before  him.  For  King  Arthur's  eyes  had  flashed  upon  him  like 
lightning,  and  those  two  hands  had  held  his  wrists  with  wonderful 
power.  Wherefore,  when  the  King  let  him  go  he  gat  him  away  as  quickly 
as  might  be,  all  trembling  and  sweating  with  a  great  fear. 

So  he  went  straight  to  the  Lady  Guinevere  and  complained  to  her   of 


ii4  THE    WINNING   OF  A    QUEEN 

the  manner  in  which  he  had  been  treated.  "  Lady,"  quoth  he,  weeping 
with  the  memory  of  his  terror,  "  my  boy  goeth  away  for  a 
compiaineth  to  the  day  or  more,  I  know  not  whither;  and  when  I  would  whip 
Lady  Guinevere.  him  £Qr  quittjng  his  work  he  taketh  the  rod  straight  away 
from  me  and  beateth  me  with  it.  Wherefore,  now,  I  prithee,  deal  with  him 
as  is  fitting,  and  let  several  strong  men  drive  .him  away  from  this  place 
with  rods." 

Then  the  Lady  Guinevere  laughed.  "  Let  be  !"  she  said,  "and  meddle 
with  him  no  more ;  for,  indeed,  he  appeareth  to  be  a  very  saucy  fellow. 
As  for  thee !  take  thou  no  heed  of  his  coming  or  his  going,  and  haply  I 
will  deal  with  him  in  such  a  way  as  shall  be  fitting." 

Whereupon  the  gardener  went  his  way,  greatly  marvelling  that  the 
Lady  Guinevere  should  be  so  mild  in  dealing  with  that  toward  knave.  And 
the  Lady  Guinevere  went  her  way,  very  merry.  For  she  began  to  be- 
think her  that  there  was  soothly  some  excellent  reason  why  it  should  hap- 
pen that  when  the  White  Champion,  who  did  such  wonderful  deeds,  should 
come  thither,  then  that  gardener's  boy  should  go ;  and  that  when  that 
same  Champion  should  go,  then  the  gardener's  boy  should  come  thither- 
ward again.  Wherefore  she  suspected  many  things,  and  was  wonderfully 
merry  and  cheerful  of  spirit. 

Now,  that  day,  in  the  afternoon,  the  Lady  Guinevere  chanced  to  walk 
in  the  garden  with  her  damsels,  and  with  her  walked  those  four  noble 
The  Lady  Guine-  knights  who  had  been  sent  thither  by  her  White  Champion, 
vere  mocketh  the  to  wit,  Sir  Gawaine,  Sir  Ewaine,  Sir  Geraint,  and  Sir  Pellias. 
gar  And  the  gardener's  lad  was  digging  in  the  gardens ;  and  as  they 

passed  by  where  he  was  the  Lady  Guinevere  laughed  aloud  and  cried  out : 
"  Look !  Look !  Messires  and  Ladies !  Yonder  is  a  very  saucy  fellow  for 
to  be  a  gardener's  lad,  for  he  continually  weareth  his  cap,  even  when  he 
standeth  in  the  presence  of  lords  and  ladies." 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  up  and  spake,  saying:  "Is  it  even  so?  Now  will 
I  straightway  go  to  yonder  knave,  and  will  take  his  hat  off  for  him,  and 
that  in  a  way  so  greatly  to  his  misliking,  that  I  do  not  believe  that  he 
will  ever  offend  by  wearing  it  in  our  presence  again." 

At  this  the  Lady  Guinevere  laughed  a  very  great  deal.  "  Let  be  !  "  she 
said,  "  let  be !  Sir  Gawaine !  it  would  ill  beseem  one  so  gentle  as  thou  art 
to  have  to  do  with  yonder  saucy  fellow.  Moreover,  he  doth  assure  us  all 
that  he  hath  an  ugly  place  upon  his  head,  wherefore  let  him  wear  his  cap 
in  God's  mercy." 

Thus  the  Lady  Guinevere,  though  she  suspected  a  very  great  deal,  was 
yet  pleased  to  make  a  mock  of  him  whom  she  suspected. 


DUKE  MO RD AUNT  CHALLENGES  AGAIN  n5 

Now  that  day  Duke  Mordaunt  of  North  Umber  had  entirely  recovered 
from  those  sore  hurts  that  he  had  suffered  from  his  overthrow  at  the  hands 
of  the  White  Champion.  Wherefore,  the  next  morning  having  come,  he 
appeared  again  before  the  castle  as  he  had  appeared  aforetime — clad  all  in 
complete  armor.  So  this  time  there  rode  before  him  two  heralds,  and 
when  the  duke  and  the  two  heralds  had  come  to  that  part  of  the  meadows 
that  lay  immediately  before  the  castle  of  Cameliard,  the  heralds  blew  their 
trumpets  exceedingly  loud.  So  at  the  sound  of  the  trumpets  many  peo- 
ple came  and  gathered  upon  the  walls  ;  and  King  Leodegrance  came,  and 
took  stand  upon  a  lesser  tower  that  looked  down  upon  the  plain  where 
were  the  Duke  of  North  Umber  and  the  two  heralds.  Then  the  Duke  of 
North  Umber  lifted  up  his  eyes  and  beheld  King  Leodegrance  where  he 
stood  over  above  him  upon  the  top  of  that  tower,  and  he 
cried  out  in  a  loud  voice:  "  What  ho  !  King  Leodegrance!  ££,f#^£ 
Thou  shalt  not  think  because  I  suffered  a  fall  from  my  horse  isswth  a  second 
through  the  mischance  of  an  assault  at  arms,  that  thou  art  *'  ™ge' 
therefore  quit  of  me.  Yet,  ne'theless,  I  do  now  make  this  fair  proffer 
unto  thee.  To-morrow  day  I  shall  appear  before  this  castle  with  six 
knights-companion.  Now  if  thou  hast  any  seven  knights  who  are  able  to 
stand  against  me  and  my  companions  in  an  assault  at  arms — whether  with 
spears  or  swords,  or  ahorse  or  afoot — then  shall  I  engage  myself  for  to 
give  over  all  pretence  whatsoever  unto  the  hand  of  the  Lady  Guinevere. 
But  if  thou  canst  not  provide  such  champions  to  contend  successfully 
against  me  and  my  knights-companion,  then  shall  I  not  only  lay  claim  to 
Lady  Guinevere,  but  I  shall  likewise  seize  upon  and  shall  hold  for  mine 
own,  three  certain  castles  of  thine  that  stand  upon  the  borders  of  North 
Umber.  And,  likewise,  I  shall  seize  upon  and  shall  hold  for  mine  own  all 
the  lands  and  glebes  appertaining  unto  those  same  castles.  Moreover, 
this  challenge  of  mine  shall  hold  only  until  to-morrow  at  set  of  sun ;  after 
the  which  time  it  shall  be  null  and  void.  Wherefore,  King  Leodegrance, 
thou  hadst  best  look  to  it  straightway  to  provide  thee  with  such  cham- 
pions as  may  defend  thee  from  these  demands  aforesaid." 

Hereupon  those  two  heralds  blew  their  trumpets  once  more,  and  Duke 
Mordaunt  of  North  Umber  turned  his  horse  about  and  >vent  away  from 
that  place.     Then  King  Leodegrance  also  went  his  way,  very    KingLeode. 
sorrowful  and  downcast  in  his  spirits^    For  he  said  to  himself:  granceis 
"  Is 'it  at  all  likely  that  another  champion  shall  come  unto  me 
like  that  wonderful  White  Champion  who  came  two  days  since,  I  know 
not  whence,  for  to  defend  me  against  mine  enemies?    And,  touching  that 
same  White  Champion ;  if  I  know  not  whence  he  came,  so  also  I  know  not 


u6  THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 

whither  he  hath  departed ;  how  then  shall  I  know  where  to  seek  him  to 
beseech  his  further  aid  in  this  time  of  mine  extremity  ?  "  Wherefore  he 
went  his  way,  very  sorrowful,  and  wist  not  what  he  was  to  do  for  to  de- 
fend himself.  So  being  thus  exceedingly  troubled  in  his  spirit,  he  went 
straight  unto  his  own  room,  and  there  shut  himself  therein  ;  nor  would  he 
see  any  man  nor  speak  unto  anyone,  but  gave  himself  over  entirely  unto 
sorrow  and  despair. 

Now  in  this  extremity  the  Lady  Guinevere  bethought  her  of  those  four 

knights  who  had  been  pledged  for  to  serve  her  for  seven  days.     So  she 

went  unto  them  where  they  were  and  she  bespoke  them  in  this 

mere  beseech-    ~  wise :    "  Messires,  ye  have  been   sent  hither  pledged   for  to 

eth  aid  of  the      serve  me  for  seven  days.    Now  I  do  ordain  it  of  thee  that  you 

will  take  this  challenge  of  Duke  Mordaunt  upon  you  at  my 

behest,  and  I  do  much  desire  that  you  go  forth  to-morrow-day  for  to  meet 

this  Duke  of  North  Umber  and  his  knights-companion  in  battle.     For  ye 

are  terribly  powerful  knights,  and  I  do  believe  you  may  easily  defend  us 

against  our  enemies." 

But  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  Not  so,  Lady  ;  not  so !  For  though  we  are 
pledged  unto  thy  service,  yet  are  we  not  pledged  unto  the  service  of  King 
Leodegrance,  thy  father.  Nor  have  we  quarrel  of  any  sort  with  this  Duke 
of  North  Umber,  nor  with  his  six  knights-companion.  For  we  are 
knights  of  King  Arthur,  his  Court,  nor  may  we,  except  at  his  command, . 
take  any  foreign  quarrel  upon  us  in  the  service  of  another  king." 

Then  was  the  Lady  Guinevere  exceedingly  angry,  wherefore  she  said 
with  great  heat :  "  Either  thou  art  a  wonderfully  faithful  lord  unto  thy 
King,  Sir  Gawaine,  or  else  thou  fearest  to  meet  this  Duke  of  North  Umber 
and  his  knights-companion." 

And  at  this  speech  of  the  Lady  Guinevere's,  Sir  Gawaine  was  also 
exceedingly  wroth,  wherefore  he  made  reply  :  "  An  thou  wert  a  knight 
and  not  a  lady,  Dame  Guinevere,  thou  wouldst  think  three  or  four  times 
ere  thou  wouldst  find  courage  to  speak  those  words  unto  me."  Where- 
upon he  arose  and  went  out  from  that  place  with  a  countenance  all 
inflamed  with  wrath.  And  the  Lady  Guinevere  went  away  also  from  that 
place  and  to  her  bower,  where  she  wept  a  very  great  deal,  both  from 
sorrow  and  from  anger. 

Now  all  this  while  King  Arthur  had  been  very  well  aware  of  everything 
that  passed  ;  wherefore  he  by  and  by  arose  and  went  out  and  found  the 
gardener.  And  he  took  the  gardener  strongly  by  the  collar  of  his  coat 
and  held  him  where  he  was.  And  he  said  to  him  :  "  Sirrah  !  I  have  a 
command  to  set  upon  thee,  and  thou  shalt  perform  that  command  to  the 


THE    GARDENER  AND  HIS  BOY  II7 

letter,  else,  an  thou  perform  it  not,  a  very  great  deal  of  pain  may  befall 
thee."     Herewith  speaking,  he  thrust  his  hand  into  the  bosom  of  his  jerkin 
and  brought  forth  thence  that  necklace  of  pearls  which  the 
Lady  Guinevere  had  given  him  from  about  her  neck.     And  he    ^enLh'th™ 
said  further  unto  the  gardener :  "  Thou  shalt  take  this  necklace   gardener  upon 
to  the  Lady  Guinevere  and  thou  shalt  say  to  her  thus :  that  she    '    *"•"**• 
is  to  send  me  forthwith  bread  and  meat  and  wine  and  comfits  from  her  own 
table.    And  thou  shalt  say  unto  her  that  I  desire  her  to  summon  those  four 
knights — to  wit,  Sir  Gawaine,  Sir  Ewaine,  Sir  Geraint,and  Sir  Pellias — and 
that  she  is  to  bid  those  four  for  to  come  and  serve  me  with  those  things  for 
my  refreshment.     And   thou   art   to  say  unto  her  that  she  is  to  lay  her 
commands  upon  those  knights  that  they  are  further  to  serve  me  according 
as  I  may  command,  and  that  they  are  henceforth  to  be  my  servants  and 
not  her  servants.     And  these  are  the  commands  that  I  lay  upon  thee  ;  that 
thou  art  to  say  these  things  unto  the  Lady  Guinevere." 

Now  when  the  gardener  heard  those  words  he  was  so  astonished  that  he 
wist  not  what  to  think,  for  he  deemed  that  the  gardener's  lad  had  gone 
altogether  mad.  Wherefore  he  lifted  up  his  voice  and  cried  aloud,  "  How 
now  !  What  is  this  thou  sayest !  Verily,  should  I  do  such  a  thing  as  this 
thou  bidst  me  to  do,  either  it  will  cost  me  my  life  or  else  it  will  cost  thee 
thy  life.  For  who  would  dare  for  to  say  such  words  unto  the  Lady 
Guinevere?" 

But  King  Arthur  said  :  "  Ne'theless,  thou  shalt  surely  do  as  I  command 
thee,  sirrah.  For  if  thou  disobey  in  one  single  point,  then  I  do  assure  thee 
it  will  go  exceedingly  ill  with  thee.  For  I  have  it  in  my  power  for  to 
make  thee  suffer  as  thou  hast  never  suffered  before." 

And  upon  this  the  gardener  said,  "  I  will  go."  For  he  said  unto  himself, 
"  If  I  do  as  this  fellow  biddeth  me,  then  will  the  Lady  Guinevere  have  him 
punished  in  great  measure,  and  so  I  shall  be  revenged  upon  him  for  what 
he  did  unto  me  yesterday.  Moreover,  it  irks  me  exceedingly  that  I 
should  have  a  lad  for  to  work  in  the  garden  who  behaves  as  this  fellow 
does.  Wherefore,"  he  said,  "  I  will  go."  So  he  took  that  necklace  of  pearls 
that  King  Arthur  gave  him,  and  he  went  forth  and,  after  awhile,  he  found 
the  Lady  Guinevere  where  she  was.  And  when  he  had  found  her,  he 
bespoke  her  in  this  wise  : 

"  Lady,  my  garden  boy  hath  assuredly  gone  entirely  mad.  For,  under 
the  threat  of  certain  great  harm  he  would  do  unto  me  an  I  performed  not 
his  errand,  he  hath  sent  me  to  offer  a  very  grievous  affront^  unto  thee. 
For  he  hath  sent  me  with  this  string  of  large  beads  for  to  give  to  thee ; 
and  he  bids  me  to  tell  thee  that  thou  art  to  send  to  him  bread  and  meat 


n8  THE    WINNING   OF  A    QUEEN 

and  sweetmeats  and  wine,  such  as  thou  usest  at  thine  own  table ;  and  he 
bids  me  to  tell  thee  that  these  things  are  to  be  served  to  him  by  the 
four  noble  knights  who  came  hither  the  day  before  yesterday.  And  he 
saith  that  thou  art  to  command  those  same  knights  that  they  are  to  obey 
him  in  whatsoever  he  may  command,  for  that  they  are  henceforth  to  be  his 
servants  and  not  thine.  And,  indeed,  Lady,  he  would  listen  to  naught  that 
I  might  say  to  him  contrariwise,  but  he  hath  threatened  me  with  dire 
injury  an  I  came  not  hither  and  delivered  this  message  unto  thee." 

Now  when  the  Lady  Guinevere  heard  what  the  gardener  said,  and  when 
she  beheld  the  necklace  which  she  had  given  unto  that  White  Champion, 
and  when  she  wist  that  the  White  Champion  and  the  gardener's  boy 
were  indeed  one,  she  was  uplifted  with  an  exceeding  joy  ;  wherefore  she 
knew  not  whether  to  laugh  or  whether  to  weep  for  that  pure  joy.  So  she 
arose  and  took  the  necklace  of  pearls,  and  she  bade  the  gardener  for  to  come 
with  her.  Then  she  went  forth  until  she  found  those  four  knights,  and 
when  she  had  found  them  she  spake  unto  them  thus : 

"  My  Lords,  awhile  sin  when  I  commanded  you  for  to  take  my  quarrel 
with  Duke  Mordaunt  of  North  Umber  upon  you  for  my  sake,  ye  would 
The  Lady  Guin-  n°t  d°  so.  And  thou,  my  lord  Gawaine,  didst  speak  such 
were  commands  angry  words  as  are  not  fitting  that  one  who  serveth  should 
to  serve  the  speak  unto  his  mistress,  far  less  that  a  knight  should  speak 
gardener's  boy.  unto  the  daughter  of  a  king.  Accordingly  I  have  it  in  my 
mind  that  ye  shall  perform  a  certain  thing  by  way  of  a  penance,  which, 
an  ye  refuse  to  do,  I  will  know  very  well  that  ye  do  not  intend  to  fulfil 
that  word  which  ye  plighted  to  my  knight  when  he  overthrew  you  all 
four  in  fair  combat.  Now  my  command  is  this:  that  ye  take  certain  food 
prepared  for  my  table — meats  and  white  bread  and  sweetmeats  and  wine 
— and  that  ye  take  that  food  unto  my  gardener's  boy,  whose  cap,  Sir  Ga- 
waine, thou  didst  threaten  so  valorously  for  to  take  away  from  him  this 
very  morning.  And  ye  four  are  to  serve  the  food  unto  him  as  though  he 
were  a  royal  knight.  And  when  ye  have  so  served  him,  ye  are  to  obey 
him  in  whatsoever  he  may  ordain.  And  this  I  put  upon  ye  as  a  penalty 
because  ye  took  not  my  quarrel  upon  ye  as  true  knights  should,  for  here- 
after ye  are  to  be  servants  unto  that  gardener's  boy  and  not  unto  me. 
Wherefore  ye  are  now  to  go  unto  the  buttery  of  the  castle,  and  ye  are  to  bid 
the  sewer  for  to  give  you  meats  such  as  are  served  upon  mine  own  table. 
And  the  food  ye  are  to  serve  upon  silver  plates,  and  the  wine  ye  are  to  serve 
in  silver  cups  and  goblets.  And  ye  are  to  minister  unto  that  gardener's 
boy  as  though  he  were  a  great  lord  of  exceeding  fame  and  renown." 

Thus  spake  the  Lady  Guinevere,  and  when  she  had  spoken,  she  turned 


FOUR  KNIGHTS  AND  A    GARDENERS  BOY  n9 

and  left  those  four  knights,  and  she  took  with  her  the  gardener,  who  was 
so  astonished  at  that  which  he  had  heard,  that  he  wist  not  whether  he  had 
gone  mad  or  whether  the  Lady  Guinevere  had  gone  mad.  And  the  Lady 
Guinevere  bade  the  gardener  to  go  to  the  gardener's  boy  and  to  tell  him 
that  all  things  should  be  fulfilled  according  to  his  commands.  And  so  the 
gardener  did  as  he  was  told. 

Now  turn  we  to  those  four  knights  whom  the  Lady  Guinevere  had  left. 
For  they  were  bemazed  and  abashed  at  the  singular  commands  she  had 
set  upon  them.  And  when  they  recovered  from  their  amazement,  they 
were  inflamed  with  exceeding  indignation  that,  for  the  time,  they  wist  not 
whether  that  which  they  saw  with  their  eyes  was  the  light  of  day,  or 
whether  it  was  altogether  darkness.  Nor  could  one  of  them  look  at 
another  in  the  face,  so  overcome  were  they  with  shame  at  the  affront  that 
had  been  put  upon  them.  Then  up  and  spake  Sir  Gawaine,  and  his  voice 
•so  trembled  with  his  exceeding  anger  that  he  could  scarce  The  four 
contain  it  for  to  speak  his  words.  "  Messires,"  quoth  he,  "  do  knights 
ye  not  see  how  that  this  lady  hath  wantonly  put  a  great  'ansry- 
affront  upon  us  because  we  would  not  do  that  which  she  this  morning 
bade  us  to  do,  and  because  we  would  not  take  up  her  quarrel  against  the 
Duke  of  North  Umber?  Now  we  will  indeed  serve  this  gardener's  boy 
«ven  as  she  hath  ordained.  For  we  will  serve  him  with  meat  and  drink 
as  she  hath  commanded ;  and  we  will  render  our  service  unto  him  as  she 
hath  bidden  us  to  do.  But  observe  ye ;  we  are  no  longer  her  servants,  but 
we  are  his  servants ;  wherefore  we  may  serve  him  as  we  choose  for  to  do. 
So,  when  we  have  fulfilled  her  commands  and  have  served  him  with  meat 
and  drink,  and  when  we  have  obeyed  all  the  behests  he  layeth  upon  us; 
then  do  I  make  my  vow  that  I,  with  mine  own  hand,  shall  slay  that  gar- 
dener's boy.  And  when  I  have  slain  him,  I  will  put  his  head  into  a  bag, 
and  I  will  send  that  bag  unto  the  Lady  Guinevere  by  the  meanest  carrier 
whom  I  can  find  for  that  purpose.  And  so  this  proud  lady  shall  receive 
an  affront  as  great  as  that  affront  which  she  hath  put  upon  us."  And  they 
all  said  that  that  which  Sir  Gawaine  had  planned  should  be  exactly  as  he 
had  said. 

So  those  four  lords  went  unto  the  sewer  of  the  castle,  and  they  asked 
for  the  best  of  that  food  which  was  to  be  served  unto  the  Lady  Guinevere 
—meats  and  bread  and  sweetmeats  and  wine.    Then  they  took    Thefour 
them  silver  plates  and  platters  and  they  placed  the  food  upon    knights  serve 
them;  and  they  took  silver  cups  and  silver  goblets  and  they    Jf/gf* 
poured  the  wine  into  them ;  and  they  went  forth  with  these 
things.     And  when  they  had  come  back  of  the  castle  nigh  to  the  stables, 


120  THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 

they  found  the  gardener's  boy,  and  they  bade  him  sit  down  and  eat  and 
to  drink.  And  they  waited  upon  him  as  though  he  had  been  some  great 
lord.  And  not  one  of  those  four  knights  wist  who  he  was,  nor  that  he 
was  the  great  King  whose  servant  they,  soothly,  were.  For  he  wore  his 
cap  of  disguise  upon  his  head,  wherefore  they  deemed  him  to  be  only  a 
poor  peasant  fellow. 

Now  when  Sir  Ewaine  beheld  that  he  still  wore  his  cap  before  them,  he 
spake  unto  him  with  great  indignation,  saying :  "  Ha,  villian  !  Wouldst 
thou  wear  thy  cap  even  in  the  presence  of  great  princes  and  lords  such 
as  we  be  ?  " 

Unto  this  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  Let  be,  it  matters  not."  And  then  he  said 
very  bitterly  unto  the  gardener's  boy  :  "  Eat  thou  well,  sirrah  !  For  thou 
shalt  hardly  eat  another  meal  of  food  upon  this  earth.*' 

To  this  the  gardener's  boy  made  reply:  "  Sir  Knight,  that,  haply,  shall 
lie  unto  another  will  than  thine  for  to  determine.  For  maybe,  I  shall  eat 
many  other  meals  than  this.  And,  maybe,  ye  shall  serve  at  them  as 
ye  are  serving  me  now."  And  those  four  lords  were  astonished  beyond 
measure  that  he  should  bespeak  them  thus  so  calmly  and  without  any 
appearance  of  fear. 

Then,  after  he  had  eaten,  the  gardener's  boy  said  unto  those  knights, 
"  Behold,  Messires,  I  have  had  enough  and  am  done  ;  and  now  1  have 
other  commands  for  you  to  fulfil.  And  my  next  command  is  that  ye 
shall  make  ready  straightway  to  go  abroad  with  me,  and  to  that  end 
ye  shall  clothe  yourselves  with  complete  armor.  And  thou,  Sir  Ga- 
waine, shalt  go  to  the  head  stable-keeper  of  this  castle,  and  thou  shalt 
demand  of  him  that  he  shall  make  ready  the  Lady  Guinevere's  palfrey 
so  that  I  may  straightway  ride  forth  upon  it.  And  when  ye  are  all 
encased  in  your  armor,  and  when  everything  is  duly  appointed  accord- 
ing to  my  command,  ye  shall  bring  that  palfrey  unto  the  postern  gate  of 
the  castle,  and  there  I  shall  meet  ye  for  to  ride  forth  with  you." 

And  Sir  Gawaine  said :  "  It  shall  be  done  in  every  way  according  as' 
thou  dost  command.  But  when  we  ride  forth  from  this  castle  it  shall  be 
a  sorry  journey  for  thee." 

And  the  gardener's  boy  said :  "  I  think  not  so,  Sir  Gawaine." 

Then  those  four  went  away  and  did  according  as  the  gardener's  boy 
commanded.  And  when  they  had  made  themselves  ready  in  full  array  of 
armor,  and  when  they  had  obtained  the  Lady  Guinevere's  palfrey,  they 
went  unto  the  postern  gate  and  there  the  gardener's  boy  met  them.  And 
when  he  saw  that  they  sat  their  horses  and  that  they  moved  not  at  his 
coming,  he  said :  "  Ha,  Messires !  would  ye  so  entreat  him  whom  ye 


KING  ARTHUR  DECLARES  HIMSELF 


121 


have  been  ordained  to  serve  ?  Now  I  do  bid  ye,  Sir  Gawaine  and  Sir 
E  \vaine,  for  to  come  down  and  to  hold  my  stirrup  for  me;  and  I  bid  ye, 
Sir  Geraint  and  Sir  Pellias,  for  to  come  down  and  to  hold  my  palfrey  for 
me  whiles  I  mount." 

Then  those  four  noble  knights  did  as  they  were  commanded.  And  Sir 
Gawaine  said :  "  Thou  mayst  command  as  thou  dost  list,  and  I  do  bid 
thee  to  make  the  most  of  it  whiles  thou  mayst  do  so;  for  thou  shalt  have 
but  a  little  while  longer  for  to  enjoy  the  great  honor  that  hath  fallen  upon 
thee.  For  that  honor  which  hath  fallen  upon  thee — lo  !  it  shall  presently 
crush  thee  unto  death." 

And  the  gardener's  boy  said :  "  Not  so ;  I  believe  I  shall  not  die  yet 
whiles."  And  again  those  four  lords  were  greatly  astonished  at  the  calm- 
ness of  his  demeanor. 

And  so  they  rode  forth  from  that  place ;  and  the  gardener's  boy  would 
not  permit  that  they  should  ride  either  before  him  or  beside  him,  but  he 
commanded  them  that  they  should  ride  behind  him  whiles  they  were  still 
servants  unto  him. 

So  they  rode  as  he  assigned  them  for  a  considerable  way.  Then 
after  they  had  gone  forward  a  great  distance,  they  drew  nigh  to  a  gloomy 
and  dismal  woodland  that  lay  entirely  beyond  the  country  coadjacent  to 
Cameliard.  Then,  when  they  had  come  nigh  unto  this  woodland,  Sir  Ga- 
waine rode  a  little  forward,  and  he  said :  "  Sir  Gardener's  Boy,  seest  thou 
yonder  woodland?  Now  when  we  come  into  it  thou  shalt  immediately  die, 
and  that  by  a  sword  that  hath  never  yet  been  touched  by  any  but  noble  or 
knightly  blood." 

And  King  Arthur  turned  him  about  in  his  saddle,  and  he  said  :  "Ha! 
Sir  Gawaine !  Wouldst  thou  ride  forward  thus  when  I  bid  thee  to  ride 
behind  me?" 

And  as  he  spake  he  took   the  cap  from  off  his  head,  and,    King  Arthur 

,          .  ,      proclaimeth  htm- 

lo!  they  all  beheld  that  it  was  King  Arthur  who  rode  with    se  if  to  the  four 
them.  ******   ' 

Then  a  great  silence  of  pure  astonishment  fell  upon  them  all,  and  each 
man  sat  as  though  he  were  turned  into  an  image  of  stone.  And  it  was 
King  Arthur  who  first  spake.  And  he  said  :  "  Ha !  how  now,  Sir  Knights  ? 
Have  ye  no  words  of  greeting  for  to  pay  to  me?  Certes,  ye  have  served 
me  with  a  very  ill  grace  this  day.  Moreover,  ye  have  threatened  to  slay 
me ;  and  now,  when  I  speak  to  you,  ye  say  naught  in  reply." 

Then  those  four  knights  immediately  cried  out  aloud;  and  they 
leaped  down  from  off  their  horses,  and  they  kneeled  down  into  the  dust  of 
the  road.  And  when  King  Arthur  beheld  them  kneeling  there,  he  laughed 


t22  THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 

with  great  joyfulness  of  spirit,  and  he  bade  them  for  to  mount  their  horses 
again,  for  the  time  was  passing  by  when  there  was  much  to  do. 

So  they  mounted  their  horses  and  rode  away,  and  as  they  journeyed 
forward  the  King  told  them  all  that  had  befallen  him,  so  that  they  were 
greatly  amazed,  and  gave  much  acclaim  unto  the  knightliness  with  which 
he  had  borne  himself  in  those  excellent  adventures  through  which  he  had 
passed.  And  they  rejoiced  greatly  that  they  had  a  king  for  to  rule  over 
them  who  was  possessed  of  such  a  high  and  knightly  spirit. 

So  they  rode  to  that  arm  of  the  forest  where  King  Arthur  had  left  his 
horse  and  his  armor. 


Jje  GarbenttLab 
off  \)is  Cap. 


Chapter  Fifth. 


How  King  Arthur  Overcame  the  Enemies  of  King  Leodegrance, 
and  How  His  Royalty  Was  Proclaimed. 

NOW,  when  the  next  day  had  come,  the  Duke  of  North   Umber 
and  six  knights-companion  appeared  upon  the  field  in  front  of 
the  castle  of  Cameliard  as  he  had  duly  declared  that  he  and  they 
would  do.     And  those  seven  champions  appeared  in  very  great  estate  ;  for 
in  front  of  them  there  rode  seven  heralds  with  trumpets  and  tabards,  and 
behind  them  there  rode  seven  esquires,  each  esquire  bearing  The  Duke  of 
the  spear,  the  shield,  the  crest,  and  the  banneret  of  the  knight  North  Umber 

1  1-111  All  11111  an<*    "tS    StX  C0m~ 

who  was  his  lord  and  master.     And  the  seven  heralds  blew  panions  appear 


their  trumpets  so  exceedingly  loud  that  the  s.ound  thereof  ^  fore  the 
penetrated  unto  the  utmost  parts  of  Cameliard,  so  that  the  people  came 
running  from  everywhere.  And  while  the  heralds  blew  their  trumpets 
the  seven  esquires  shouted,  and  waved  the  spears  and  the  bannerets.  So 
those  seven  knights  rode  in  such  proud  estate  that  those  who  looked  upon 
them  had  hardly  ever  beheld  such  a  splendid  presentment  of  chivalry. 

So  they  paraded  up  and  down  that  field  three  times  for  its  entire  length, 
and,  meantime,  a  great  crowd  of  people,  called  thither  by  the  blowing  of 
the  herald's  trumpets,  stood  upon  the  walls  and  gazed  therefrom  at  that 
noble  spectacle.  And  all  the  Court  of  King  Ryence  came,  and  stood  upon 
the  plain  in  front  of  the  King's  pavilion,  and  they  shouted  and  cheered  the 
Duke  of  North  Umber  and  his  six  knights-companion. 

Meanwhile,  King  Leodegrance  of  Cameliard  was  so  cast  down  with 
trouble  and  shame  that  he  did  not  choose  to  show  his  face,  but  hid  him- 
self away  from  all  his  Court.  Nor  would  he  permit  anyone  for  to  come 
into  his  presence  at  that  time. 

Nevertheless,  the  Lady  Guinevere,  with  sundry  of  her  damsels,  went 


126  THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 

unto  the  King's  closet  where  he  was,  and  knocked  upon  the  door  thereof, 
I-L  r  j  ^  •  and  when  the  King:  denied  her  to  come  in  to  him,  she 

The  Lady  Guine-  . 

vere  cheereth  her  spake  to  him  through  the  door,  giving  him  words  of  good 
father.  cheer,  saying :  "  My  lord  King  and  father,  I  prithee  for  to 

look  up  and  to  take  good  cheer  unto  thyself.  For  I  do  assure  thee  that 
there  is  one  who  hath  our  cause  in  his  hands,  and  that  one  is,  certes,  a 
very  glorious  champion.  And  he  shall  assuredly  come  by  and  by  ere  this 
day  is  done,  and  when  he  cometh,  he  shall  certainly  overthrow  our 
enemies." 

But  King  Leodegrance  opened  not  the  door,  but  he  said :  "  My  daugh- 
ter, that  which  thou  sayest  thou  sayest  for  to  comfort  me.  For  there 
is  no  other  help  for  me  in  this  time  of  trouble  only  God,  His  good  strong 
help  and  grace."  And  she  said:  "Nay,  I  say  that  which  is  the  truth; 
and  the  help  that  God  shall  send  unto  thee  he  shall  certainly  send  through 
a  worthy  champion  who  at  this  moment  hath  our  cause  in  his  hand." 

So  spake  the  Lady  Guinevere,  so  that  whilst  King  Leodegrance  came 
not  forth,  yet  he  was  greatly  comforted  at  that  which  she  said  to  him. 

Thus  passed  all  that  morning  and  a  part  of  the  afternoon,  and  yet  no 
one  appeared  for  to  take  up  that  challenge  which  the  seven  knights  had 
declared.  But,  whilst  the  sun  was  yet  three  or  four  hours  high,  there 
suddenly  appeared  at  a  great  distance  a  cloud  of  dust.  And  in  that  cloud 
Five  knights-  °^  dust  there  presently  appeared  five  knights,  riding  at  great 
defender  appear  speed,  thitherward.  And  when  these  had  come  nigh  unto 
the  walls,  lo !  the  people  beheld  that  he  who  rode  foremost  of 
ail  was  that  same  White  Champion  who  had  aforetime  overthrown 
the  Duke  of  North  Umber.  Moreover,  they  perceived  that  the  four 
knights  who  rode  with  that  White  Champion  were  very  famous  knights 
and  of  great  prowess  and  glory  of  arms.  For  the  one  was  Sir  Gawaine, 
and  the  other  was  Sir  Ewaine,  and  the  other  was  Sir  Geraint,  and  the 
other  was  Sir  Pellias.  For  the  people  of  the  castle  and  the  town  knew 
those  four  knights,  because  they  had  dwelt  for  two  days  at  Cameliafd, 
and  they  were  of  such  exceeding  renown  that  folk  crowded  from  far 
and  near  for  to  look  upon  them  whensoever  they  appeared  for  to  walk 
abroad. 

So  when  the  people  upon  the  walls  beheld  who  those  knights  were,  and 
when  they  perceived  that  White  Champion  who  had  aforetime  brought 
them  such  exceeding  honor,  they  shouted  aloud  for  the  second  time  with 
a  voice  mightier  than  that  with  which  they  had  the  first  time  shouted. 

Now  King  Leodegrance  heard  the  people  shouting,  whereupon  hope 
awoke  of  a  sudden  within  him.  So  he  straightway  came  forth  with  all 


THE    WHITE   CHAMPION  APPEARS  I27 

speed  for  to  see  what  was  ado,  and  there  he  beheld  those  five  noble  cham- 
pions about  to  enter  into  the  field  below  the  castle  walls. 

And  the  Lady  Guinevere  also  heard  the  shouting  and  she  came  forth 
likewise  and,  behold!  there  was  that  White  Champion  and  those  four 
other  knights.  So  when  she  beheld  that  White  Knight  and  his  four  com- 
panions-at-arms,  her  heart  was  like  to  break  within  her  for  pure  joy  and 
gladness,  wherefore  she  wept  for  the  passion  thereof,  and  laughed  the 
whiles  she  wept.  And  she  waved  her  kerchief  unto  those  five  noble  lords 
and  kissed  her  hand  unto  them,  and  the  five  knights  saluted  her  as  they 
rode  past  her  and  into  the  field. 

Now,  when  the  Duke  of  North  Umber  was  made  aware  that  those  five 
knights  had  come  against  him  and  his  knights-companion  for  to  take  up 
his  challenge,  he  straightway  came  forth  from  his  pavilion  and  mounted 
his  horse.  And  his  knights-companion  came  forth  and  mounted  their 
horses,  and  he  and  they  went  forth  for  to  meet  those  who  had  come 
against  them. 

And  when  the  Duke  of  North  Umber  had  come  nigh  enough,  he  per- 
ceived that  the  chiefest  of  those  five  knights  was  the  White  Champion  who 
had  aforetime  overthrown  him.  Wherefore  he  said  unto  that  White 
Champion  :  "  Sir  Knight,  I  have  once  before  condescended  unto  thee  who 
art  altogether  unknown  to  me  or  to  anybody  else  that  is  here.  For  with- 
out inquiring  concerning  thy  quality,  I  ran  a  course  with  thee  and,  lo !  by 
the  chance  of  arms  thou  didst  overthrow  me.  Now  this  quarrel  is  more 
serious  than  that,  wherefore  I  and  my  companions-at-arms  will  not  run  a 
course  with  thee  and  thy  companions;  nor  will  we  fight  with  The Duke of 
thee  until  I  first  know  what  is  the  quality  of  him  against  whom  ^orth  Umber 
I  contend.  Wherefore,  I  bid  thee  presently  declare  thyself,  rj££%k  the 
who  thou  art  and  what  is  thy  condition." 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  opened  the  umbril  of  his  helmet,  and  he  said:  "Sir 
Knight,  behold  my  face,  and  know  that  I  am  Gawaine,  the  son  of  King 
Lot.  Wherefore  thou  mayst  perceive  that  my  condition  and  estate  are 
even  better  than  thine  own.  Now  I  do  declare  unto  thee  that  yonder 
White  Knight  is  of  such  a  quality  that  he  condescends  unto  thee  when  he 
doeth  combat  with  thee,  and  that  thou  dost  not  condescend  unto  him." 

"  Ho,  Sir  Gawaine  !  "  quoth  the  Duke  of  Umber.  "  What  thou  sayest  is 
a  very  strange  thing,  for,  indeed,  there  are  few  in  this  world  who  are  so 
exalted  that  they  may  condescend  unto  me.  Ne'theless,  since  thou  dost 
avouch  for  him,  I  may  not  gainsay  that  which  thou  sayest.  Yet,  there  is 
still  another  reason  why  we  may  not  fight  with  ye.  For,  behold  !  we  are 
seven  well-approved  and  famous  knights,  and  ye  are  but  five  ;  so,  con- 


128  THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 

sider  how  unequal  are  our  forces,  and  that  you  stand  in  great  peril  in  un~ 
dertaking  so  dangerous  an  encounter." 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  smiled  right  grimly  upon  that  Duke  of  North  Umber. 
"  Grarnercy  for  thy  compassion,  and  for  the  tenderness  which  thou 
showeth  concerning  our  safety,  Sir  Duke,"  quoth  he.  "  But  ne'theless, 
thou  mayst  leave  that  matter  unto  us  with  entire  content  of  spirit  upon 
thy  part.  For  I  consider  that  the  peril  in  which  ye  seven  stand  is  fully 
equal  to  our  peril.  Moreover,  wert  thou  other  than  a  belted  knight,  a 
simple  man  might  suppose  that  thou  wert  more  careful  of  thine  own  safety 
in  this  matter,  than  thou  art  of  ours." 

Now  at  these  words  the  countenance  of  the  Duke  of  North  Umber  be- 
came altogether  covered  with  red,  for  he  wist  that  he  had,  indeed,  no 
great  desire  for  this  battle,  wherefore  he  was  ashamed  because  of  the 
words  which  Sir  Gawaine  spake  to  him.  So,  each  knight  closed  his  helmet, 
and  all  turned  their  horses,  and  the  one  party  rode  unto  one  end  of  the  field, 
and  the  other  party  rode  to  the  other  end  of  the  field,  and  there  each  took 
stand  in  the  place  assigned  unto  them. 

And  they  arranged  themselves  thus  :  In  the  middle  was  King  Arthur, 
and  upon  either  hand  were  two  knights  ;  and  in  the  middle  was  the  Duke 
of  North  Umber,  and  upon  either  hand  were  three  knights.  So,  when 
they  had  thus  arrayed  themselves  they  dressed  their  spears  and  their  shields, 
and  made  them  altogether  ready  for  the  onset.  Then  King  Arthur  and 
Duke  Mordaunt  each  shouted  aloud,  and  the  one  party  hurled  upon  the 
other  party  with  such  violence  that  the  ground  shook  and  thundered 
beneath  the  hoofs  of  the  horses,  and  the  clouds  of  dust  rose  up  against  the 
heavens. 

And  so  they  met  in  the  middle  of  the  field  with  an  uproar  of  such  dread- 
ful violence  that  one  might  have  heard  the  crashing  thereof  for  the  dis- 
tance of  more  than  a  mile  away. 

And  when  the  one  party  had  passed  the  other,  and  the  dust  of  the  en- 
counter had  arisen,  lo  !  three  of  the  seven  had  been  overthrown,  and  not 
one  of  the  five  had  lost  his  seat. 

And  one  of  those  who  had  been  overthrown  was  Duke  Mordaunt  of 

North  Umber.     And,  behold!  he  never  more  arose  again  from  the  ground 

whereon  he  lay.     For  King  Arthur  had  directed  his  spear 

owfturneth'thc    into  tne  very  midst  of  his  defences,  and  the  spear  had  held, 


orth  wherefore  the  point  thereof  had  pierced  the  shield  of  the 
Duke  of  North  Umber,  and  had  pierced  his  body  armor, 
and  so  violent  was  the  stroke,  that  the  Duke  of  North  Umber  had  been 
lifted  entirely  out  of  his  saddle,  and  had  been  cast  a  full  spear's  length  be- 


CAMELIARD  IS  DEFENDED  I29 

hind  the  crupper  of  his  horse.  Thus  died  that  wicked  man,  for  as  King 
Arthur  drave  past  him,  the  evil  soul  of  him  quitted  his  body  with  a  weak 
noise  like  to  the  squeaking  of  a  bat,  and  the  world  was  well  rid  of  him. 

Now  when  King  Arthur  turned  him  about  at  the  end  of  the  course  and 
beheld  that  there  were  but  four  knights  left  upon  their  horses  of  all  those 
seven  against  whom  he  and  his  companions  had  driven,  he  uplifted  his 
spear,  and  drew  rein  upon  his  horse,  and  bespake  his  knights  in  this 
wise :  "  Messires,  I  am  aweary  of  all  this  coil  and  quarrelling,  and  do  not 
care  to  fight  any  more  to-day,  so  go  ye  straightway  and  engage  those  knights 
in  battle.  As  for  me,  I  will  abide  here,  and  witness  your  adventure." 

"  Lord,"  said  they,  "  we  will  do  our  endeavor  as  thou  dost  command." 

So  those  four  good  knights  did  as  he  commanded,  and  they  went  forth 
straightway  against  those  other  four,  much  encouraged  that  their  King 
looked  upon  their  endeavor.  And  King  Arthur  sat  with  the  butt  of  his 
spear  resting  upon  his  instep,  and  looked  upon  the  field  with  great  con- 
tent of  spirit,  and  a  steadfast  countenance. 

As  for  those  four  knights-companion  that  remained  of  the  Duke  of 
North  Umber's  party,  they  came  not  forth  to  this  second  encounter  with 
so  much  readiness  of  spirit  as  they  had  done  aforetime.  For  they  were 
now  well  aware  of  how  great  was  the  excellent  prowess  of  those  other 
knights,  and  they  beheld  that  their  enemies  came  forth  to  this  second  en- 
counter very  fiercely,  and  with  great  valor  and  readiness  of  spirit.  Where- 
fore their  hearts  melted  away  within  them  with  doubt  and  anxiety  as  to 
the  outcome  of  this  second  encounter. 

Nevertheless,  they  prepared  themselves  with  such  resolve  as  might  be, 
and  came  forth  as  they  were  called  upon  to  do. 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  drave  straight  up  to  the  foremost  knight,  who  was 
a  very  well-known  champion,  hight  Sir  Dinador  of  Montcalm.  And  when 
he  had  come  sufficiently  nigh  to  him,  he  lifted  himself  up  in  his  stirrups 
and  he  smote  Sir  Dinador  so  fierce  a  blow  that  he  cleft  the  shield  of  that 
knight  asunder,  and  he  cleft  his  helmet,  and  a  part  of  the  blade  of  his 
sword  brake  away  and  remained  therein. 

And  when  Sir  Dinador  felt  that  blow,  his  brains  swam  like  water,  and  he 
was  fain  to  catch  the  horn  of  his  saddle  for  to  save  himself  from  falling 
therefrom.     Then  a  great  terror  straightway  fell  upon  him,  so    The  knights- 
that  he  drew  rein    violently   to  one  side.     So   he  fled  away    j£j^  *" 
from  that  place  with  the  terror  of  death  hanging  above  him    knights-de- 
like  to  a  black  cloud  of  smoke.     And  when  his   companions  f™der- 
beheld  that  stroke  that  Sir  Gawaine  delivered,  and  when  they  beheld  Sir 
Dinador  flee  away  from  before  him,  they  also  drew  rein  to  one  side  and 


1 3o  THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 

fled  away  with  all  speed,  pursued  with  an  entire  terror  of  their  enemies. 
And  Sir  Gawaine  and  Sir  Ewaine  and  Sir  Geraint  and  Sir  Pellias  pursued 
them  as  they  fled.  And  they  chased  them  straight  through  the  Court  of 
King  Ryence,  so  that  the  knights  and  nobles  of  that  Court  scattered 
hither  and  thither  like  chaff  at  their  coming.  And  they  chased  those  flee- 
ing knights  in  among  the  pavilions  of  King  Ryence's  Court,  and  no  man 
stayed  them  ;  and  when  they  had  chased  those  knights  entirely  away, 
they  returned  to  that  place  where  King  Arthur  still  held  his  station,  stead- 
fastly awaiting  them. 

Now  when  the  people  of  Cameliard  beheld  the  overthrow  of  their 
enemies,  and  when  they  beheld  how  those  enemies  fled  away  from  before 
the  faces  of  their  champions,  they  shouted  with  might  and  main,  and  made 
great  acclaim.  Nor  did  they  stint  their  loud  shouting  when  those  four 
knights  returned  from  pursuing  their  enemies  and  came  back  unto  the 
White  Champion  again.  And  still  more  did  they  give  acclaim  when  those 
five  knights  rode  across  the  drawbridge  and  into  the  gateway  of  the  town 
and  into  the  town. 

Thus  ended  the  great  bout-at-arms,  which  was  one  of  the  most  famous 
in  all  the  history  of  chivalry  of  King  Arthur's  Court. 

Now  when  King  Arthur  had  thus  accomplished  his  purposes,  and  when 
he  had  come  into  the  town  again,  he  went  unto  that  merchant 
returiutkkit  of  whom  he  had  obtained  the  armor  that  he  wore,  and  he 
armor  to  the  delivered  that  armor  back  to  him  again.  And  he  said,  "  To- 
morrow-day, Sir  Merchant,  I  shall  send  thee  two  bags  of  gold 
for  the  rent  of  that  armor  which  thou  didst  let  me  have." 

To  this  the  merchant  said  :  "  Lord,  it  is  not  needed  that  thou  shouldst 
recompense  me  for  that  armor,  for  thou  hast  done  great  honor  unto 
Cameliard  by  thy  prowess." 

But  King  Arthur  said  :  "  Have  done,  Sir  Merchant,  nor  must  thou  for- 
bid what  I  say.  Wherefore  take  thou  that  which  I  shall  send  unto  thee." 

Thereupon  he  went  his  way,  and,  having  set  his  cap  of  disguise  upon  his 
head,  he  came  back  into  the  Lady  Guinevere's  gardens  again. 

Now  when  the  next  morning  had  come  the  people  of  Cameliard  looked 
forth  and,  lo  !  King  Ryence  had  departed  entirely  away  from  before  the 
castle.  For  that  night  he  had  struck  his  pavilions,  and  had  withdrawn  his 
Court,  and  had  gone  away  from  that  place  where  he  and  his  people  had 
sat  down  for  five  days  past.  And  with  him  he  had  taken  the  body  of  the 
Duke  of  North  Umber,  conveying  it  away  in  a  litter  surrounded  by  many 
lighted  candles  and  uplifted  by  a  peculiar  pomp  of  ceremony.  But  when 
the  people  of  Cameliard  beheld  that  he  was  gone,  they  were  exceedingly 

*: 


KING  RYENCE  MAKES  DEMANDS  13I 

rejoiced,  and  made  merry,  and  shouted  and  sang  and  laughed.  For 
they  wist  not  how  deeply  enraged  King  Ryence  was  against  them ;  for 
his  enmity  aforetime  toward  King  Leodegrance  was  but  as  a  small  flame 
when  compared  unto  the  anger  that  now  possessed  him. 

Now  that  morning  Lady  Guinevere  walked  into  her  garden,  and  with 
her  walked  Sir  Gawaine  and  Sir  Ewaine,  and  lo !  there  she  beheld  the 
gardener's  boy  again. 

Then  she  laughed  aloud,  and  she  said  unto  those  two  knights,  "  Messires 
behold  !  Yonder  is  the  gardener's  boy,  who  weareth  his  cap  continually 
because  he  hath  an  ugly  place  upon  his  head." 

Then  those  two  knights,  knowing  who  that  gardener's  boy  was,  were 
exceedingly  abashed  at  her  speech,  and  wist  not  what  to  say  or  whither  to 
look.  And  Sir  Gawaine  spake,  aside  unto  Sir  Ewaine,  and  quoth  he : 
"  'Fore  Heaven,  that  lady  knoweth  not  what  manner  of  man  is  yonder 
gardener's  boy ;  for,  an  she  did,  she  would  be  more  sparing  of  her 
speech." 

And  the  Lady  Guinevere  heard  Sir  Gawaine  that  he  spoke,  but  she  did 
not  hear  his  words.  So  she  turned  unto  Sir  Gawaine,  and  she  said :  "  Sir 
Gawaine,  haply  it  doth  affront  thee  that  that  gardener's  boy  should  wear 
his  cap  before  us,  and  maybe  thou  wilt  go  and  take  it  off  from  his  head  as 
thou  didst  offer  to  do  two  or  three  days  since." 

And  Sir  Gawaine  said  :  "  Peace,  Lady !  Thou  knowest  not  what  thou 
sayest.  Yonder  gardener's  boy  could  more  easily  take  my  head  from  off 
my  shoulders  than  I  could  take  his  cap  from  off  his  head." 

At  this  the  Lady  Guinevere  made  open  laughter ;  but  in  her  heart  she 
secretly  pondered  that  saying  and  greatly  marvelled  what  Sir  Gawaine 
meant  thereby. 

Now  about  noon  of  that  day  there  came  an  herald  from  King  Ryence  of 
North  Wales,  and  he  appeared  boldly  before  King  Leodegrance  where  -the 
King  sat  in  his  hall  with  a  number  of  his  people  about  him.  King Ryence 
And  the  herald  said  :  "  My  lord  King :  my  master,  King  threatened  King 
Ryence  of  North  Wales,  is  greatly  displeased  with  thee.  For 
thou  didst  set  certain  knights  upon  Duke  Mordaunt  of  North  Umber, 
and  those  knights  have  slain  that  excellent  nobleman,  who  was  close  kin 
unto  King  Ryence.  Moreover,  thou  hast  made  no  reply  to  those  demands 
that  my  master,  King  Ryence,  hath  made  touching  the  delivery  unto  him 
of  certain  lands  and  castles  bordering  upon  North  Wales.  Wherefore  my 
master  is  affronted  with  thee  beyond  measure.  So  my  master,  King 


r32  THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 

Ryence,  olds  me  to  set  forth  to  thee  two  conditions,  and  the  conditions 
are  these  :  Firstly,  that  thou  dost  immediately  deliver  into  his  hands  that 
White  Knight  who  slew  the  Duke  of  North  Umber  ;  secondly,  that  thou 
makest  immediate  promise  that  those  lands  in  question  shall  be  presently 
delivered  unto  King  Ryence." 

Then  King  Leodegrance  arose  from  where  he  sat  and  spake  to  that 
herald  with  great  dignity  of  demeanor.  "  Sir  Herald,"  quoth  he,  "  the 
demands  that  King  Ryence  maketh  upon  me  pass  all  bounds  for  insolence. 
That  death  which  the  Duke  of  North  Umber  suffered,  he  suffered  because 
of  his  own  pride  and  folly.  Nor  would  I  deliver  that  White  Knight  into 
thy  master's  hands,  even  an  I  were  able  to  do  so.  As  for  those  lands  that 
thy  master  demandeth  of  me,  thou  mayst  tell  King  Ryence  that  I  will  not 
deliver  unto  him  of  those  lands  so  much  as  a  single  blade  of  grass,  or  a 
single  grain  of  corn  that  groweth  thereon." 

And  the  herald  said  :  "  If,  so  be,  that  is  thine  answer,  King  Leode- 
grance, then  am  I  bidden  for  to  tell  thee  that  my  master,  King  Ryence  of 
North  Wales,  will  presently  come  hither  with  an  array  of  a  great  force  of 
arms,  and  will  take  from  thee  by  force  those  things  which  thou  wilt  not 
deliver  unto  him  peacefully."  Whereupon,  so  saying,  he  departed  thence 
and  went  his  way. 

Now  after  the  herald  had  departed,  King  Leodegrance  went  into  his 
closet,  and  when  he  had  come  there  he  sent,  privily,  for  the  Lady  Guine- 
vere. So  the  Lady  Guinevere  came  to  him  where  he  was. 
King  Leodegrance  said  to  her  :  "  My  daughter,  it  hath 


•with  the  Lady     happened  that  a  knight  clad  all  in  white,  and  bearing  no  crest 

Guinevere.  i       •  r  •  ~i  ,        •> 

or  device  of  any  sort,  hath  twice  come  to  our  rescue  and  hath 
overthrown  our  enemies.  Now  it  is  said  by  everybody  that  that  knight 
is  thine  own  particular  champion,  and  I  hear  say  that  he  wore  thy  neck- 
lace as  a  favor  when  he  first  went  out  against  the  Duke  of  North  Umber. 
Now  I  prithee,  daughter,  tell  me  who  that  White  Champion  is,  and  where 
he  may  be  found." 

Then  the  Lady  Guinevere  was  overwhelmed  with  a  confusion,  where- 
fore she  looked  away  from  her  father's  countenance  ;  and  she  said  :  "  Ver- 
ily, my  Lord,  I  know  not  who  that  knight  may  be." 

Then  King  Leodegrance  spake  very  seriously  to  the  Lady  Guinevere, 
and  he  took  her  by  the  hand  and  said  :  "  My  daughter,  thou  art  now  of 
an  age  when  thou  must  consider  being  mated  unto  a  man  who  may  duly 
cherish  thee  and  protect  thee  from  thine  enemies.  For,  lo  !  I  grow  apace 
in  years,  and  may  not  hope  to  defend  thee  always  from  those  perils  that 
encompass  one  of  our  estate.  Moreover,  since  King  Arthur  (who  is  a 


THE  LADY  GUINEVERE   CONFESSES   TO  HER  FATHER      133 

very  great  King  indeed)  hath  brought  peace  unto  this  realm,  all  that  noble 
court  of  chivalry  which  one  time  gathered  about  me  has  been  scattered 
elsewhither  where  greater  adventures  may  be  found  than  in  my  peaceful 
realm.  Wherefore  (as  all  the  world  hath  seen  this  week  past)  I  have  now 
not  one  single  knight  whom  I  may  depend  upon  to  defend  us  in  such 
times  of  peril  as  these  which  now  overshadow  us.  Now,  my  daughter,  it 
doth  appear  to  me  that  thou  couldst  not  hope  to  find  anyone  who  could  so 
well  safeguard  thee  as  this  White  Knight ;  for  he  doth  indeed  appear  to 
be  a  champion  of  extraordinary  prowess  and  strength.  Wherefore  it 
would  be  well  if  thou  didst  feel  thyself  to  incline  unto  him  as  he  appeareth 
to  incline  unto  thee." 

Then  the  Lady  Guinevere  became  all  rosy  red  as  with  a  fire  even  unto 
her  throat.  And  she  laughed,  albeit  the  tears  overflowed  her  eyes  and 
ran  down  upon  her  cheeks.  So  she  wept,  yet  laughed  in  weeping.  And 
she  said  unto  King  Leodegrance :  "  My  Lord  and  father,  an  I  give  my 
liking  unto  any  one  in  the  manner  thou  speaketh  of,  I  will  give  it  only 
unto  the  poor  gardener's  boy  who  digs  in  my  garden." 

Then,  at  these  words,  the  countenance  of  King  Leodegrance  became 
contracted  with  violent  anger,  and  he  cried  out :  "  Ha,  Lady !  Wouldst 
thou  make  a  mock  and  a  jest  of  my  words?  " 

Then  the  Lady  Guinevere  said:  "Indeed,  my  Lord!  I  jest  not  and  I 
mock  not.  Moreover,  I  tell  thee  for  verity  that  that  same  gardener's  boy 
knoweth  more  concerning  the  White  Champion  than  anybody  else  in  all 
of  the  world."  Then  King  Leodegrance  said :  "  What  is  this  that  thou 
tellestme?"  And  the  Lady  Guinevere  said:  "  Send  for  that  gardener's 
boy  and  thou  shalt  know."  And  King  Leodegrance  said :  "  Verily,  there 
is  more  in  this  than  I  may  at  present  understand." 

So  he  called  to  him  the  chief  of  his  pages,  hight  Dorisand,  and  he  said 
to  him  :  "  Go,  Dorisand,  and  bring  hither  the  gardener's  boy  from  the 
Lady  Guinevere's  garden." 

So  Dorisand,  the  page,  went  as  King  Leodegrance  commanded,  and  in 
a  little  while  he  returned,  bringing  with  him  that  gardener's  boy.  And 
with  them  came  Sir  Gawaine,  and  Sir  Ewaine,  and  Sir  Pellias  and  Sir 
Geraint.  And  those  four  lords  stood  over  against  the  door,  where  they 
entered ;  but  the  gardener's  boy  came  and  stood  beside  the  table  where 
King  Leodegrance  sat.  And  the  King  lifted  up  his  eyes  and  looked  upon 
the  gardener's  boy,  and  he  said :  "Ha!  Wouldst  thou  wear  thy  cap  in 
our  presence  ?  " 

Then  the  gardener's  boy  said  :    "  I  cannot  take  off  my  cap." 

But  the  Lady  Guinevere,  who  stood  beside  the  chair  of  King  Leode- 


i34  THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 

grance,  spake  and  said:    "  I  do  beseech  thee,  Messire,  for  to  take  off  thy 
cap  unto  my  father." 

Whereupon  the  gardener's  boy  said  :  "  At  thy  bidding  I  will  take  it  off." 
So  he  took  the  cap  from  off  his  head,  and  King  Leodegrance  beheld 
his  face  and  knew  him.     And  when  he  saw  who  it  was  who  stood  before 
him,  he  made  a  great  outcry  from   pure  amazement.     And 
-  he  said  :  "  My  Lord  and  my  King!     What  is  this  !  "     There- 


selftoKing       upon  he  arose  from  where  he  sat,  and  he  went  and  kneeled 

Leodegrance.  *  •  «»••>••      'A      » 

down  upon  the  ground  before  King  Arthur.  And  he  set  the 
palms  of  his  hands  together  and  he  put  his  hands  within  the  hands  of 
King  Arthur,  and  King  Arthur  took  the  hands  of  King  Leodegrance 
within  his  own.  And  King  Leodegrance  said  :  "  My  Lord  !  My  Lord  ! 
Is  it  then  thou  who  hast  done  all  these  wonderful  things?" 

Then  King  Arthur  said  :  "  Yea  ;  such  as  those  things  were,  I  have  done 
them."  And  he  stooped  and  kissed  King  Leodegrance  upon  the  cheek 
and  lifted  him  up  unto  his  feet  and  gave  him  words  of  good  cheer. 

Now  the  Lady  Guinevere,  when  she  beheld  those  things  that  passed, 
was  astonished  beyond  measure.  And  lo  !  she  understood  of  a  sudden 
all  these  things  with  amazing  clearness.  Wherefore  a  great  fear  fell  upon 
her  so  that  she  trembled  exceedingly,  and  said  unto  herself  :  "  What  things 
have  I  said  unto  this  great  King,  and  how  have  I  made  a  mock  of  him  and 
a  jest  of  him  before  all  those  who  were  about  me  !  "  And  at  the  thought 
thereof,  she  set  her  hand  upon  her  side  for  to  still  the  extreme  disturbance 
of  her  heart.  So,  whilst  King  Arthur  and  King  Leodegrance  gave  to  one 
another  words  of  royal  greeting  and  of  compliment,  she  withdrew  herself 
and  went  and  stood  over  against  the  window  nigh  to  the  corner  of  the  wall. 

Then,  by  and  by,  King  Arthur  lifted  up  his  eyes  and  beheld  her  where 
she  stood  afar  off.  So  he  went  straightway  unto  her  and  he  took  her  by 
the  hand,  and  he  said:  "  Lady,  what  cheer?" 

And  she  said  :  "  Lord,  I  am  afeard  of  thy  greatness."  And  he  said  : 
"  Nay,  Lady.  Rather  it  is  I  who  am  afeard  of  thee.  For  thy  kind  regard 
is  dearer  unto  me  than  anything  else  in  all  the  world,  else  had  I  not  served 
for  these  twelve  days  as  gardener's  boy  in  thy  garden  all  for  the  sake  of 
thy  good  will."  And  she  said  :  "  Thou  hast  my  good  will,  Lord."  And 
he  said:  "Have  I  thy  good  will  in  great  measure?"  And  she  said: 
"  Yea,  thou  hast  it  in  great  measure." 

Kin  Arthur  is       Then  he  stooped  his  head  and  kissed  her  before  all  those 
betrothed  to  the     who  were  there,  and  thus  their  troth  was  plighted. 

Lady  Guinevere.         ^^  ^^  Leodegrance  was  filled  with  such  an  exceeding 

joy  that  he  wist  not  how  to  contain  himself  therefore. 


THE   STORY  OF  THE  ROUND    TABLE  135 

Now,  after  these  things,  there  followed  a  war  with  King  Ryence  of 
North  Wales.  For  Sir  Kay  and  Sir  Ulfius  had  gathered  together  a  great 
army  as  King  Arthur  had  bidden  them  to  do,  so  that  when  King  Ryence 
came  against  Cameliard  he  was  altogether  routed,  and  his  army  dispersed, 
and  he  himself  chased,  an  outcast,  into  his  mountains. 

Then  there  was  great  rejoicing  in  Cameliard.  For,  after  his  victory, 
King  Arthur  remained  there  for  awhile  with  an  exceedingly  splendid 
Court  of  noble  lords  and  of  beautiful  ladies.  And  there  was  feasting  and 
jousting  and  many  famous  bouts  at  arms,  the  like  of  which  those  parts 
had  never  before  beheld.  Ancl  King  Arthur  and  the  Lady  Guinevere 
were  altogether  happy  together. 

Now,  one  day,  whiles  King  Arthur  sat  at  feast  with  King  Leodegrance 
— they  two  being  exceedingly  expanded  with  cheerfulness — King  Leode- 
grance said  unto  King  Arthur :  "  My  Lord,  what  shall  I  offer  thee  for  a 
dowery  with  my  daughter  when  thou  takest  her  away  from  me  for  to  be 
thy  Queen?" 

Then  King  Arthur  turned  to  Merlin,  who  stood  nigh  to  him,  and  he  said  : 
"  Ha,  Merlin  !  What  shall  I  demand  of  my  friend  by  way  of  that  dowery  ?" 

Unto  him  Merlin  said :  "  My  lord  King,  thy  friend  King  Leodegrance 
hath  one  thing,  the  which,  should  he  bestow  it  upon  thee,  will  singularly 
increase  the  glory  and  renown  of  thy  reign,  so  that  the  fame  thereof  shall 
never  be  forgotten.'* 

And  King  Arthur  said :  "  I  bid  thee,  Merlin,  tell  me  what  is  that  thing." 

So  Merlin  said :  "  My  lord  King,  I  will  tell  thee  a  story  : 

"  In  the  days  of  thy  father,  Uther-Pendragon,  I  caused  to  be  made  for 
him  a  certain  table  in  the  shape  of  a  ring,  wherefore  men   called   it  the 
ROUND  TABLE.     Now,  at  this  table  were  seats  for  fifty  men,  MgrKn  tglleth 
and  these  seats  were  designed  for  the  fifty  knights  who  were   of  the  Round 
the  most  worthy  knights  in  all  the  world.     These  seats  were 
of  such  a  sort,  that  whenever  a  worthy  knight  appeared,  then  his  name 
appeared  in  letters  of  gold  upon  that  seat  that  appertained  unto  him  ;  and 
when  that  knight  died,  then  would  his  name  suddenly  vanish  from  that 
seat  which  he  had  aforetime  occupied. 

"  Now,  forty-and-nine  of  these  seats,  except  one  seat,  were  altogether  alike 
(saving  only  one  that  was  set  aside  for  the  King  himself,  which  same  was 
elevated  above  the  other  seats,  and  was  cunningly  carved  and  inlaid  with 
ivory  and  with  gold),  and  the  one  seat  was  different  from  all  the  others,  and 
it  was  called  the  SEAT  PERILOUS.  For  this  seat  was  unlike  the  others  both 
in  its  structure  and  its  significance  ;  for  it  was  all  cunningly  inset  with 
gold  and  silver  of  curious  device,  and  it  was  covered  with  a  canopy  of  sat- 


136  THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 

in  embroidered  with  gold  and  silver ;  and  it  was  altogether  of  a  wonder- 
ful magnificence  of  appearance.  And  no  name  ever  appeared  upon  this 
seat,  for  only  one  knight  in  all  of  the  world  could  hope  to  sit  therein  with 
safety  unto  himself.  For,  if  any  other  dared  to  sit  therein,  either  he  would 
die  a  sudden  and  violent  death  within  three  days'  time,  or  else  a  great  mis- 
fortune would  befall  him.  Hence  that  seat  was  called  the  SEAT  PERILOUS. 

"  Now,  in  the  days  of  King  Uther-Pendragon,  there  sat  seven-and-thirty 
knights  at  the  ROUND  TABLE.  And  when  King  Uther-Pendragon  died, 
he  gave  the  ROUND  TABLE  unto  his  friend,  King  Leodegrance  of  Came- 
liard. 

"  And  in  the  beginning  of  King  Leodegrance's  reign,  there  sat  four-and- 
twenty  knights  at  the  ROUND  TABLE. 

"  But  times  have  changed  since  then,  and  the  glory  of  King  Leode- 
grance's reign  hath  paled  before  the  glory  of  thy  reign,  so  that  his  noble 
Court  of  knights  have  altogether  quitted  him.  Wherefore  there  remain- 
eth  now  not  one  name,  saving  only  the  name  of  King  Leodegrance,  upon  all 
those  fifty  seats  that  surround  the  ROUND  TABLE.  So  now  that  ROUND 
TABLE  lieth  beneath  its  pavilion  altogether  unused. 

"Yet  if  King  Leodegrance  will  give  unto  thee,  my  lord  King,  that  ROUND 
TABLE  for  a  dower  with  the  Lady  Guinevere,  then  will  it  lend  unto  thy 
reign  its  greatest  glory.  For  in  thy  day  every  seat  of  that  TABLE  shall  be 
filled,  even  unto  the  SEAT  PERILOUS,  and  the  fame  of  the  knights  who  sit 
at  it  shall  never  be  forgotten." 

"  Ha  !  "  quoth  King  Arthur.  "  That  would  indeed  be  a  dower  worthy 
for  any  king  to  have  with  his  queen." 

King  Leode-  "  Then,"  King  Leodegrance  said,.  "  that  dower  shalt  thou 

grance  bestows      have  with  my  daughter ;   and  if  it  bring  thee  great  glory, 

the  Round  Table    4  .     «  „.*  ,  j    ^  .     ,,    / 

upon  King  Ar-  then  shall  thy  glory  be  my  glory,  and  thy  renown  shall  be 
thur.  my  renown.  For  if  my  glory  shall  wane,  and  thy  glory 

shall  increase,  behold  !  is  not  my  child  thy  wife?  " 

And  King  Arthur  said :  "  Thou  sayest  well  and  wisely." 
Thus  King  Arthur  became  the  master  of  that  famous  ROUND  TABLE. 
And  the  ROUND  TABLE  was  set  up, at  Camelot  (which  some  men  now  call 
Winchester).  And  by  and  by  there  gathered  about  it  such  an  array  of 
knights  as  the  world  had  never  beheld  before  that  time,  and  which  it 
shall  never  behold  again. 

Such  was  the  history  of  the  beginning  of  the  ROUND  TABLE  in  King 
Arthur's  reign. 


Laby  Gttiwuete* 


Chapter  Sixth. 


How  King  Arthur  Was  Wedded  in  Royal  State  and  How  the  Round 

Table  Was  Established. 

AND  now  was  come  the  early  fall  of  the  year ;  that  pleasant  sea- 
son when  the  meadow-land  and  the  wold  were  still  green  with 
summer  that  had  only  just  passed ;  when  the  sky  likewise  was 
as  of  summer-time — extraordinarily  blue  and  full  of  large  floating  clouds ; 
when  a  bird  might  sing  here  and  another  there,  a  short  song  in  memory  of 
spring-time,  when  all  the  air  was  tempered  with  warmth  and  yet  the  leaves 
were  everywhere  turning  brown  and  red  and  gold,  so  that  when  the  sun 
shone  through  them  it  was  as  though  a  cloth  of  gold,  broidered  with  brown 
and  crimson  and  green,  hung  above  the  head.  At  this  season  of  the  year 
it  is  exceedingly  pleasant  to  be  a-field  among  the  nut-trees  with  hawk  and 
hound,  or  to  travel  abroad  in  the  yellow  world,  whether  it  be  a-horse  or  a- 
foot. 

Now  this  was  the  time  of  year  in  which  had  been  set  the  marriage  of  King 
Arthur  and  the  Lady  Guinevere  at  Camelot,  and  at  that  place  was  extraor- 
dinary pomp  and  glory  of  circumstance.  All  the  world  was  astir  and 
in  a  great  ferment  of  joy,  for  everybody  was  exceedingly  glad  that  King 
Arthur  was  to  have  him  a  Queen. 

In  preparation  for  that  great  occasion  the  town  of  Camelot  was  bedight 
very  magnificently,  for  the  stony  street  along  which  the  Lady  Guinevere 
must  come  to  the  royal  castle  of  the  King  was  strewn  thick  with  fresh- 
cut  rushes  smoothly  laid.  Moreover  it  was  in  many  places  spread  with 
carpets  of  excellent  pattern  such  as  might  be  fit  to  lay  upon  the  floor 
of  some  goodly  hall.  Likewise  all  the  houses  along  the  way  How  Camelot 
were  hung:  with  fine  hangings  of  woven  texture  interwoven  town  was 

&      &  .  adorned. 

with  threads   of  azure   and  crimson,  and  everywhere  were 

flags  and  banners  afloat  in  the  warm  and  gentle  breeze  against  the  blue 

sky,  wherefore  that  all  the  world  appeared  to  be  alive  with  bright  colors,  so 


i4o  THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 

that  when  one  looked  adown  that  street,  it  was  as  though  one  beheld  a 
crooked  path  of  exceeding  beauty  and  gayety  stretched  before  him. 

Thus  came  the  wedding-day  of  the  King — bright  and  clear  and  exceed- 
ingly radiant. 

King  Arthur  sat  in  his  hall  surrounded  by  his  Court  awaiting  news  that 
the  Lady  Guinevere  was  coming  thitherward.  And  it  was  about  the 
middle  of  the  morning  when  there  came  a  messenger  in  haste  riding  upon 
a  milk-white  steed.  And  the  raiment  of  that  messenger  and  the  trappings 
of  his  horse  were  all  of  cloth  of  gold  embroidered  with  scarlet  and  white, 
and  the  tabard  of  the  messenger  was  set  with  many  jewels  of  various  sorts 
so  that  he  glistened  from  afar  as  he  rode,  with  a  singular  splendor  of  ap- 
pearance. 

So  this  herald-messenger  came  straight  into  the  castle  where  the  King 
abided  waiting,  and  he  said :  "  Arise,  my  lord  King,  for  the  Lady  Guine- 
vere and  her  Court  draweth  nigh  unto  this  place." 

Upon  this  the  King  immediately  arose  with  great  joy,  and  straightway 
he  went  forth  with  his  Court  of  Knights,  riding  in  great  state.  And  as  he 
went  down  that  marvellously  adorned  street,  all  the  people  shouted  aloud 
as  he  passed  by,  wherefore  he  smiled  and  bent  his  head  from  side  to  side  ; 
for  that  day  he  was  passing  happy  and  loved  his  people  with  wonderful 
friendliness. 

Thus  he  rode  forward  unto  the  town  gate,  and  out  therefrom,  and  so 
came  thence  into  the  country  beyond  where  the  broad  and  well-beaten 
highway  ran  winding  down  beside  the  shining  river  betwixt  the  willows 
and  the  osiers. 

And,  behold  !  King  Arthur  and  those  with  him  perceived  the  Court 
of  the  Princess  where  it  appeared  at  a  distance,  wherefore  they  made  great 
rejoicing  and  hastened  forward  with  all  speed.  And  as  they  came  nigh, 
Of  the  Court  tne  sun  falling  upon  the  apparels  of  silk  and  cloth  of  gold,  and 
of  the  Lady  upon  golden  chains  and  the  jewels  that  hung  therefrom,  all  of 
that  noble  company  that  surrounded  the  Lady  Guinevere  her 
litter  flashed  and  sparkled  with  surpassing  radiance. 

For  seventeen  of  the  noblest  knights  of  the  King's  Court,  clad  in  com- 
plete armor,  and  sent  by  him  as  an  escort  unto  the  lady,  rode  in  great 
splendor,  surrounding  the  litter  wherein  the  Princess  lay.  And  the  frame- 
work of  that  litter  was  of  richly  gilded  wood,  and  its  curtains  and  its 
cushions  were  of  crimson  silk  embroidered  with  threads  of  gold.  And 
behind  the  litter  there  rode  in  gay  and  joyous  array,  all  shining  with  many 
colors,  the  Court  of  the  Princess — her  damsels  in  waiting,  gentlemen, 
ladies,  pages,  and  attendants. 


THE  MARRIAGE    OF  KING  ARTHUR  i41 

So  those  parties  of  the  King  and  the  Lady  Guinevere  drew  nigh  together 
until  they  met  and  mingled  the  one  with  the  other. 

Then  straightway  King  Arthur  dismounted  from  his  noble  horse  and,  all 
clothed  with  royalty,  he  went  afoot  unto  the  Lady  Guinevere's  litter, 
whiles  Sir  Gawaine  and  Sir  Ewaine  held  the  bridle  of  his  K.  . 
horse.  Thereupon  one  of  her  pages  drew  aside  the  silken  greets  the  Lady 
curtains  of  the  Lady  Guinevere's  litter,  and  King  Leode-  Gmnevere- 
grance  gave  her  his  hand  and  she  straightway  descended  therefrom,  all 
embalmed,  as  it  were,  in  exceeding  beauty.  So  King  Leodegrance  led 
her  to  King  Arthur,  and  King  Arthur  came  to  her  and  placed  one  hand 
beneath  her  chin  and  the  other  upon  her  head  and  inclined  his  counte- 
nance and  kissed  her  upon  her  smooth  cheek — all  warm  and  fragrant  like 
velvet  for  softness,  and  without  any  blemish  whatsoever.  And  when  he 
had  thus  kissed  her  upon  the  cheek,  all  those  who  were  there  lifted  up 
their  voices  in  great  acclaim,  giving  loud  voice  of  joy  that  those  two 
noble  souls  had  thus  met  together. 

Thus  did  King  Arthur  give  welcome  unto  the  Lady  Guinevere  and 
unto  King  Leodegrance  her  father  upon  the  highway  beneath  the  walls  of 
the  town  of  Carnelot,  at  the  distance  of  half  a  league  from  that  place. 
And  no  one  who  was  there  ever  forgot  that  meeting,  for  it  was  full  of 
extraordinary  grace  and  noble  courtliness. 

Then  King  Arthur  and  his  Court  of  Knights  and  nobles  brought  King 
Leodegrance  and  the  Lady  Guinevere  with  great  ceremony  unto  Camelot 
and  unto  the  royal  castle,  where  apartments  were  assigned  to  all,  so  that 
the  entire  place  was  alive  with  joyousness  and  beauty. 

And  when  high  noon  had  come,  the  entire  Court  went  with  great  state 
and  ceremony  unto  the  cathedral,  and  there,  surrounded  with 

J  i  •    j     JKing  A  rthur 

wonderful  magnificence,  those  two  noble  souls  were  married    and  the  Lady 
by  the  Archbishop.  **S* 

And   all  the  bells  rang  right  joyfully,  and  all  the  people 
who  stood  without  the  cathedral  shouted  with  loud  acclaim,  and  lo !  the 
King  and  the  Queen  came  forth  all  shining,  like  unto  the  sun  for  splendor 
and  like  unto  the  moon  for  beauty. 

In  the  castle  a  great  noontide  feast  was  spread,  and  there  sat  thereat 
four  hundred,  eighty  and  six  lordly  and  noble  folk— kings,  knights,  and 
nobles — with  queens  and  ladies  in  magnificent    array.     And    Of  the  feast 
near  to  the  King  and  the  Queen  there  sat  King  Leodegrance   jgj^^^ 
and  Merlin,  and  Sir  Ulfius,  and  Sir  Ector  the  trustworthy, 
and  Sir  Gawaine,  and  Sir  Ewaine,  and  Sir  Kay,  and  King  Ban,  and  King 
Pellinore  and  many  other  famous  and  exalted  folk,  so  that  no  man  had 


i42  THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 

ever  beheld  such    magnificent  courtliness   as   he  beheld  at   that  famous 
wedding-feast  of  King  Arthur  and  Queen  Guinevere. 

And  that  day  was  likewise  very  famous  in  the  history  of  chivalry,  for 
in  the  afternoon  the  famous  Round  Table  was  established,  and  that  Round 
Table  was  at  once  the  very  flower  and  the  chiefest  glory  of  King  Arthur's 
reign. 

For  about  mid  of  the  afternoon  the  King  and  Queen,  preceded  by 
Merlin  and  followed  by  all  that  splendid  Court  of  kings,  lords,  nobles  and 
knights  in  full  array,  made  progression  to  that  place  where  Merlin,  partly 
by  magic  and  partly  by  skill,  had  caused  to  be  builded  a  very  wonderful 
pavilion  above  the  Round  Table  where  it  stood. 

And  when  the  King  and  the  Queen  and  the  Court  had  entered  in  thereat 
they  were  amazed  at  the  beauty  of  that  pavilion,  for  they  perceived,  an  it 
Of  the  pa-  were,  a  great  space  that  appeared  to  be  a  marvellous  land  of 
of  the  Fay.  For  the  walls  were  all  richly  gilded  and  were  painted 


oun  a  e.  w^n  verv  wonderful  figures  of  saints  and  of  angels,  clad  in 
ultramarine  and  crimson,  and  all  those  saints  and  angels  were  depicted 
playing  upon  various  musical  instruments  that  appeared  to  be  made  of 
gold.  And  overhead  the  roof  of  the  pavilion  was  made  to  represent  the 
sky,  being  all  of  cerulean  blue  sprinkled  over  with  stars.  And  in  the 
midst  of  that  painted  sky  was  an  image,  an  it  were,  of  the  sun  in  his  glory. 
And  under  foot  was  a  pavement  all  of  marble  stone,  set  in  squares  of  black 
and  white,  and  blue  and  red,  and  sundry  other  colors. 

In  the  midst  of  the  pavilion  was  a  Round  Table  with  seats  thereat 
exactly  sufficient  for  fifty  persons,  and  at  each  of  the  fifty  places  was  a 
chalice  of  gold  filled  with  fragrant  wine,  and  at  each  place  was  a  paten  of 
gold  bearing  a  manchet  of  fair  white  bread.  And  when  the  King  and  his 
Court  entered  into  the  pavilion,  lo  !  music  began  of  a  sudden  for  to  play 
with  a  wonderful  sweetness. 

Then  Merlin  came  and  took  King  Arthur  by  the  hand  and  led  him 
away  from  Queen  Guinevere.  And  he  said  unto  the  King,  "  Lo  !  this 
is  the  Round  Table." 

Then  King  Arthur  said,  "  Merlin,  that  which  I  see  is  wonderful  beyond 
the  telling." 

After  that  Merlin  discovered  unto  the  King  the  various  marvels  of  the 
King  Arthur  is  R°und  Table,  for  first  he  pointed  to  a  high  seat,  very  wonder- 
seatedatthe  fully  wrought  in  precious  woods  and  gilded  so  that  it  was 
Round  Table.  exceecjingiy  beautiful,  and  he  said,  "  Behold,  lord  King,  yon- 
der seat  is  hight  the  '  Seat  Royal/  and  that  seat  is  thine  for  to  sit  in." 


THE  ROUND   TABLE  IS  FOUNDED  143 

And  as  Merlin  spake,  lo  !  there  suddenly  appeared  sundry  letters  of  gold 
upon  the  back  of  that  seat,  and  the  letters  of  gold  read  the  name, 


And  Merlin  said,  "  Lord,  yonder  seat  may  well  be  called  the  centre  seat 
of  the  Round  Table,  for,  in  sooth,  thou  art  indeed  the  very  centre  of  all 
that  is  most  worthy  of  true  knightliness.  Wherefore  that  seat  shall  be 
called  the  centre  seat  of  all  the  other  seats." 

Then  Merlin  pointed  to  the  seat  that  stood  opposite  to  the  Seat  Royal, 
and  that  seat  also  was  of  a  very  wonderful  appearance  as  afore  told  in  this 
history.  And  Merlin  said  unto  the  King:  "My  lord  King,  that  seat  is 
called  the  Seat  Perilous,  for  no  man  but  one  in  all  this  world  shall  sit 
therein,  and  that  man  is  not  yet  born  upon  the  earth.  And  if  any  other 
man  shall  dare  to  sit  therein  that  man  shall  either  suffer  death  or  a  sudden 
and  terrible  misfortune  for  his  temerity.  Wherefore  that  seat  is  called  the 
Seat  Perilous." 

"  Merlin,"  quoth  the  King,  "  all  that  thou  tellest  me  passeth  the  bound 
of  understanding  for  marvellousness.  Now  I  do  beseech  thee  in  all  haste 
for  to  find  forthwith  a  sufficient  number  of  knights  to  fill  this  Round 
Table  so  that  my  glory  shall  be  entirely  complete." 

Then  Merlin  smiled  upon  the  King,  though  not  with  cheerfulness,  and 
said,  "  Lord,  why  art  thou  in  such  haste  ?  Know  that  when  this  Round 
Table  shall  be  entirely  filled  in  all  its  seats,  then  shall  thy  glory  be  entirely 
achieved  and  then  forthwith  shall  thy  day  begin  for  to  decline.  For  when 
any  man  hath  reached  the  crowning  of  his  glory,  then  his  work  is  done 
and  God  breaketh  him  as  a  man  might  break  a  chalice  from  which  such 
perfect  ichor  hath  been  drunk  that  no  baser  wine  may  be  allowed  to  defile 
it.  So  when  thy  work  is  done  and  ended  shall  God  shatter  the  chalice  of 
thy  life." 

Then  did  the  King  look  very  steadfastly  into  Merlin's  face,  and  said, 
"  Old  man,  that  which  thou  sayest  is  ever  of  great  wonder,  for  thou  speakest 
words  of  wisdom.  Ne'theless,  seeing  that  I  am  in  God  His  hands,  I  do 
wish  for  my  glory  and  for  His  good  will  to  be  accomplished  even  though 
He  shall  then  entirely  break  me  when  I  have  served  His  purposes." 

"  Lord,"  said  Merlin,  "  thou  speakest.  like  a  worthy  king  and  with  a  very 
large  and  noble  heart.  Ne'theless,  I  may  not  fill  the  Round  Table  for  thee 
at  this  time.  For,  though  thou  hast  gathered  about  thee  the  very  noblest 
Court  of  Chivalry  in  all  of  Christendom,  yet  are  there  but  two  and  thirty 
knights  here  present  who  may  be  considered  worthy  to  sit  at  the  Round 
Table." 


144  THE    WINNING    OF  A    QUEEN 

11  Then,  Merlin,"  quoth  King  Arthur,  "  I  do  desire  of  thee  that  thou  shalt 
straightway  choose  me  those  two  and  thirty." 

"  So  will  I  do,  lord  King,"  said  Merlin. 

Then  Merlin  cast  his  eyes  around  and  lo  !  he  saw  where  King  Pellinore 

stood  at  a  little  distance.     Unto  him  went  Merlin  and  took  him  by  the 

hand.      "  Behold,  my  lord   King,"  quoth  he.     "  Here   is  the 

Merlin  chooseth   ,.,.,,,  ,  ••  ,  ,  f       , 

the  knights  kmght  in  all  the  world  next  to  thyself  who  at  this  time  is  most 
°Tabk  R°Und  worthy  for  to  sit  at  this  Round  Table.  For  he  is  both  exceed- 
ingly gentle  of  demeanor  unto  the  poor  and  needy  and  at  the 
same  time  is  so  terribly  strong  and  skilful  that  I  know  not  whether  thou 
or  he  is  the  more  to  be  feared  in  an  encounter  of  knight  against  knight." 

Then  Merlin  led  King  Pellinore  forward  and  behold  !  upon  the  high  seat 
that  stood  upon  the  left  hand  of  the  Royal  Seat  there  appeared  of  a  sudden 
the  name, 


And  the  name  was  emblazoned  in  letters  of  gold  that  shone  with  extraor- 
dinary lustre.  And  when  King  Pellinore  took  his  seat,  great  and  loud 
acclaim  long  continued  was  given  him  by  all  those  who  stood  round  about. 

Then  after  that  Merlin  had  thus  chosen  King  Arthur  and  King  Pellinore 
he  chose  out  of  the  Court  of  King  Arthur  the  following  knights,  two  and 
thirty  in  all,  and  these  were  the  knights  of  great  renown  in  chivalry  who 
did  first  establish  the  Round  Table.  Wherefore  they  were  surnamed 
"  The  Ancient  and  Honorable  Companions  of  the  Round  Table." 

To  begin,  there  was  Sir  Gawaine  and  Sir  Ewaine,  who  were  nephews 
unto  the  King,  and  they  sat  nigh  to  him  upon  the  right  hand  ;  there  was 
Sir  Ulfius  (who  held  his  seat  but  four  years  and  eight  months  unto  the  time 
of  his  death,  after  which  Sir  Geheris  —  who  was  esquire  unto  his  brother, 
Sir  Gawaine  —  held  that  seat)  ;  and  there  was  Sir  Kay  the  Seneschal,  who 
was  foster  brother  unto  the  King  ;  and  there  was  Sir  Baudwain  of  Britain 
(who  held  his  seat  but  three  years  and  two  months  until  his  death,  a'fter 
the  which  Sir  Agravaine  held  that  seat)  ;  and  there  was  Sir  Pellias  and  Sir 
Geraint  and  Sir  Constantine,  son  of  Sir  Caderes  the  Seneschal  of  Cornwall 
(which  same  was  king  after  King  Arthur)  ;  and  there  was  Sir  Caradoc 
and  Sir  Sagramore,  surnamed  the  Desirous,  and  Sir  Dinadan  and  Sir 
Dodinas,  surnamed  the  Savage,  and  Sir  Bruin,  surnamed  the  Black,  and 
Sir  Meliot  of  Logres,  and  Sir  Aglaval  and  Sir  Durnure,  and  Sir  Lamorac 
(which  three  young  knights  were  sons  of  King  Pellinore),  and  there  was 
Sir  Griflet  and  Sir  Ladinas  and  Sir  Brandiles  and  Sir  Persavant  of  Iron- 
side, and  Sir  Dinas  of  Cornwall,  and  Sir  Brian  of  Listinoise,  and  Sir  Palo- 


THE  ROUND    TABLE  IS  ESTABLISHED  145 

mides  and  Sir  Degraine  and  Sir  Epinogres,  the  son  of  the  King  of  North 
Umberland  and  brother  unto  the  enchantress  Vivien,  and  Sir  Lamielof  Car- 
diff,  and  Sir  Lucan  the  Bottler  and  Sir  Bedevere  his  brother  (which  same 
bare  King  Arthur  unto  the  ship  of  Fairies  when  he  lay  so  sorely  wounded 
nigh  unto  death  after  the  last  battle  which  he  fought).  These  two  and 
thirty  knights  were  the  Ancient  Companions  of  the  Round  Table,  and 
unto  them  were  added  others  until  there  were  nine  and  forty  in  all,  and 
then  was  added  Sir  Galahad,  and  with  him  the  Round  Table  was  made 
entirely  complete. 

Now  as  each  of  these  knights  was  chosen  by  Merlin,  lo !  as  he  took  that 
knight  by  the  hand,  the  name  of  that  knight  suddenly  appeared  in  golden 
letters,  very  bright  and  shining,  upon  the  seat  that  appertained  to  him. 

But  when  all  had  been  chosen,  behold !  King  Arthur  saw  that  the  seat 
upon  the  right  hand  of  the  Seat  Royal  had  not  been  filled,  and  that  it  bare 
no  name  upon  it.  And  he  said  unto  Merlin :  "  Merlin,  how  is  this,  that 
the  seat  upon  my  right  hand  hath  not  been  filled,  and  beareth  no  name?" 

And  Merlin  said :  "  Lord,  there  shall  be  a  name  thereon  in  a  very  little 
while,  and  he  who  shall  sit  therein  shall  be  the  greatest  knight  in  all  the 
world  until  that  the  knight  cometh  who  shall  occupy  the  Seat  Perilous. 
For  he  who  cometh  shall  exceed  all  other  men  in  beauty  and  in  strength 
and  in  knightly  grace." 

And  King  Arthur  said :  "  I  would  that  he  were  with  us  now."  And 
Merlin  said  :  "  He  cometh  anon." 

Thus  was  the  Round  Table  established  with  great  pomp  and  great  cere- 
mony of  estate.  For  first  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  blessed  each  and 
every  seat,  progressing  from  place  to  place  surrounded  by  his  Holy  Court, 
the  choir  whereof  singing  most  musically  in  accord,  whiles  others  swung 
censers  from  which  there  ascended  an  exceedingly  fragrant  vapor  of  frank- 
incense,  filling  that  entire  pavilion  with  an  odor  of  Heavenly  blessedness. 

And  when  the  Archbishop  had  thus  blessed  every  one  of  those  seats, 
the  chosen  knight  took  each  his  stall  at  the  Round  Table,  and  his  es- 
quire came  and  stood  behind  him,  holding  the  banneret  with  his  coat-of- 
arms  upon  the  spear-point  above  the  knight's  head.  And  all  those  who 
stood  about  that  place,  both  knights  and  ladies,  lifted  up  their  voices  in 
loud  acclaim. 

Then  all  the  knights  arose,  and  each  knight  held  up  before  him  the 
cross  of  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  and  each  knight  spake  word  of  the  ceremony 
for  word  as   King  Arthur  spake.      And  this  was  the  cove-  9f^^fy^f 
nant  of  their  Knighthood  of  the   Round  Table:   That  they' 
would  be  gentle  unto  the  weak ;  that  they  would  be  courageous  unto  the 


i46 


THE    WINNING   OF  A    QUEEN 


strong1 ;  that  they  would  be  terrible  unto  the  wicked  and  the  evil-doer ; 
that  they  would  defend  the  helpless  who  should  call  upon  them  for  aid ; 
that  all  women  should  be  held  unto  them  sacred;  that  they  would  stand 
unto  the  defence  of  one  another  whensoever  such  defence  should  be  re. 
quired ;  that  they  would  be  merciful  unto  all  men ;  that  they  would  be 
gentle  of  deed,  true  in  friendship,  and  faithful  in  love.  This  was  their 
covenant,  and  unto  it  each  knight  sware  upon  the  cross  of  his  sword,  and 
in  witness  thereof  did  kiss  the  hilt  thereof.  Thereupon  all  who  stood 
thereabouts  once  more  gave  loud  acclaim. 

Then  all  the  knights  of  the  Round  Table  seated  themselves,  and  each 
knight  brake  bread  from  the  golden  patten,  and  quaffed  wine  from  the 
golden  chalice  that  stood  before  him,  giving  thanks  unto  God  for  that 
which  he  ate  and  drank. 

Thus  was  King  Arthur  wedded  unto  Queen  Guinevere,  and  thus  was 
the  Round  Table  established. 


CONCLUSION 

So  endeth  this  Book  of  King  Arthur  which  hath  been  told  by  me  with  such 
joyousness  of  spirit  that  I  find  it  to  be  a  very  great  pleasure,  in  closing  this 
first  volume  of  my  work,  to  look  forward  to  writing  a  second  volume,  which 
now  presently  followeth. 

In  that  volume  there  shall  be  told  the  history  of  several  very  noble  worthies 
who  were  of  the  Court  of  the  King,  and  it  seems  to  me  to  be  a  good  thing  to 
have  to  do  with  the  history  of  such  noble  and  honorable  knights  and  gentlemen. 
For,  indeed,  it  might  well  please  anyone  to  read  such  an  history,  and  to  hear 
those  worthies  speak,  and  to  behold  in  what  manner  they  behaved  in  times  of 
trial  and  tribulation.  For  their  example  will  doubtless  help  us  all  to  behave 
in  a  like  manner  in  a  like  case. 


The 

BOOK 

of 

THREE 
WORTHIES 


Fotetootb* 


HERE  beginneth   the   Second  Book   of  the    History  of  King 
Arthur,    called   The   Book   of  Three    Worthies,    because   it 
has  to  do  with  three  very  excellent,  honorable  Lords  of  the 
Court  of  King  Arthur. 

Of  these  three,  the  first  is  Merlin  the  Wise,  the  second  is  Sir 
Pellias,  surnamed  the  Gentle  Knight,  and  the  third  is  Sir  Gawaine, 
the  son  of  King  Lot  of  Orkney  and  the  Isles. 

So  now  presently  follows  the  story  of  the  passing  of  Merlin  the 

Wise ;    in    the    which  you    shall    see   how    the    very    wisdom     that 

Merlin  possessed  in  such  great  measure  was  the  cause  of  his  own 

undoing.      Wherefore  I  do  hope  that  you  yourselves  may  take  that 

story  unto  heart  so    that  you  shall  see  that  those  gifts  of  mind  or 


152  FOREWORD 

person  which  God  assigns  unto  you  may  not  be  so  misused  by  you 
or  others  that  they  shall  become  the  means  of  compassing  your  own 
downfall. 

For  it  shall  not  excuse  you  in  any  wise  that,  as  you  joiirney  for- 
ward in  your  life,  you  shall  find  many  men  who,  like  Merlin,  have 
been  endowed  by  the  grace  of  God  with  very  great  gifts  of  talent 
which  tJiey  might  very  easily  use  to  the  great  benefit  of  mankind,  but 
which  they  so  misuse  as  to  bring  the  greater  ruin  upon  themselves  and 
the  greater  harm  unto  other  men.  For,  if  you  shall  prove  so  weak  or 
so  wicked  as  to  misuse  your  talents  in  that  manner  unto  the  harm  of 
others  and  of  yourself,  it  shall  not  make  your  fault  the  less  that 
others  shall  have  done  greater  evil  than  yourself. 

Wherefore,  let  this  story  of  Merlin  be  a  warning  unto  you,  I  pray 
you  all.  For,  though  I  do  not  believe  that  Merlin  intended  that  his 
talents  of  magic  should  do  harm  unto  others,  yet,  because  of  his  folly, 
they  did  as  great  harm  as  though  he  himself  had  designed  to  do  evil 
by  means  of  them.  Yea  ;  it  is  hard  to  tell  whether  the  wickedness  or 
the  follies  of  men  do  the  greater  harm  in  the  world ;  therefore  seek  to 
guard  yourself  well,  not  only  against  sin,  but  against  folly  and  weak- 
ness  likewise. 


Prologue. 


UPON  a  certain  day  King  Arthur  sat  in  the  Royal  Hall  of  Camelot 
with  the  Queen  and  all  of  his  Court  and  all  of  her  Court.  And 
there  was  great  joy  and  mirth  at  that  place. 

Whiles  they  sat  there,  there  suddenly  came  an  armed  knight  into  the 
Hall,  and  his  armor  was  all  covered  with  blood  and  dust,  and  he  had  a 
great  many  wounds  upon  his  body.     Then  all  they  who  were 
at  that  place  were  astonished  and  affrighted  at  the  aspect  of   cometht/tL 
that  knight,  for  his  appearance  boded  no  good  news  to  King   **nsat  Came' 
Arthur.     The  knight-messenger  came  to  where  the  King  was, 
and   he  was   nearly  fainting  with  weakness  and  with  the  many  wounds 
he  had  received,  and  he  brought  news  unto  those  who  were  there  present 
that  five  kings,  enemies  to  King  Arthur,  had  suddenly  come  into  that  land 
and  that  they  were  burning  and  harrying  the  country  upon  every  side. 

And  the  knight-messenger  said  that  these  five  kings  were  the  King  of 
Denmark,  the  King  of  Ireland,  the  King  of  Soleyse,  the  King  of  the  Vale, 
and  the  King  of  Longtinaise.  These  had  brought  with  them  a  great  host 
and  were  laying  waste  the  land  all  around  about,  so  that  all  the  realm  was 
in  sore  travail  and  sorrow  because  of  their  devastations. 

Upon  this  news,  King  Arthur  smote  his  palms  together  with  great 
vehemence  and  cried  out,  "Alas!  who  would  be  a  king!  Will  the  time 


156  PROLOGUE 

never  come  when  these  wars  and  disturbances  shall  cease  and  we  shall 
have  entire  peace  in  this  land  !  "  Therewith  he  arose  in  great  agitation 
and  went  out  from  that  place,  and  all  who  were  there  were  in  sore  trouble. 

So  King  Arthur  immediately  sent  messengers  to  two  friendly  kings  who 
were  nearest  to  him  —  to  wit,  to  King  Pellinore  and  to  King  Uriens  of 
Gore  —  and  he  bade  them  to  come  to  his  aid  without  any  loss  of  time. 
Meantime  he  himself  gathered  together  a  large  army  with  intent  to  go 
forth  to  meet  his  enemies  forthwith. 

So  he  went  forth  and  upon  the  third  day  he  came  with  his  army  unto 
the  forest  of  Tintagalon  and  there  he  stayed  with  intent  to  rest  for  a  little 
King  Arthur  until  King  Pellinore  and  King  Uriens  should  have  joined  him. 
asketh  aid  of  But  the  five  kings,  his  enemies,  had  news  that  King  Arthur 
andgof  King  was  at  that  place,  and  thereupon  they  made  a  forced  march 
Pellinore.  through  North  Wales  with  intent  to  strike  him  ere  those  other 
two  kings  could  come  to  his  aid.  So  they  came  by  night  to  where  King 
Arthur  was,  and  they  fell  upon  him  so  unexpectedly  that  there  was  great 
danger  of  his  army  being  put  to  rout  before  that  assault. 

But  King  Arthur  drew  his  army  together  by  his  own  courage  and  large- 
heartedness,  and  so  they  defended  themselves  with  a  great  spirit  until 
King  Pellinore  appeared  with  his  army  and  joined  in  that  battle. 

So  in  the  end  King  Arthur  won  a  great  victory  over  his  enemies  ;  for 
they  were  put  to  rout  and  scattered  in  every  direction.  Likewise  by 
King  Arthur  means  of  that  war,  and  because  of  the  submissions  of  these 
is  victorious.  five  kings,  King  Arthur  recovered  all  that  realm  that  had 
once  been  his  father's,  and  more  besides. 

Now  in  that  war  eight  of  the  knights  of  the  Round  Table  lost  their  lives, 
and  Kiag  Arthur  mourned  their  loss  with  great  dolor  ;  for 
these  were  the  first  knights  of  the  Round  Table  who  had  lost 


Table  are  slain   their  lives  in  doing  battle  in  his  defence. 

Whilst  King  Arthur  was  grieving  very  sorely  for  these 
eight  knights,  Merlin  came  unto  him,  and  said,  "  Be  not  downcast,  lord, 
for  lo!  thou  hast  many  excellent  knights  still  left  about  thee  and  thou 
canst  certainly  not  have  a  very  great  deal  of  trouble  in  filling  those  eight 
places  that  have  been  thus  made  empty  by  death.  Now  if  thou  followest 
my  counsel,  thou  must  choose  some  very  worthy  adviser  from  the  knights- 
companion  of  thy  Round  Table,  and  thou  wilt  consult  with  him  in  this 
matter  (for  the  counsel  of  two  is  better  than  the  counsel  of  one),  and 
between  ye  ye  may  fill  those  places  made  vacant  by  war." 

This  counsel  appeared  very  good  to  King  Arthur,  so  he  did  as  Merlin 
advised.     For  that  morning  he   summoned  King  Pellinore  to  his  privy 


PROLOGUE  157 

cioset  and  laid  the  matter  before  him  and  they  two  communed  together 
thereupon.  In  that  consultation  King  Pellinore  advised  King  Arthur  in 
this  wise:  That  there  should  be  four  old  and  worthy  knights  chosen  to  fill 
four  of  those  empty  seats,  and  that  there  should  be  four  young  and  ardent 
knights  chosen  to  fill  the  other  four  seats,  and  in  that  manner  all  those 
eight  seats  should  be  filled. 

Now  that  advice  appeared  to  King  Arthur  to  be  good,  wherefore  he 
said,  "  Let  it  be  that  way."     So  first  they  two  chose  the  four    King  Arthur 
old  knights  as  follows:  There  was  King  Uriens  of  Gore,  and    and  King  Pei- 
King  Lac,  and  Sir  Hervise  de  Reuel,  and  Sir  Galliar  of  Rouge,    eight  old  and 
And  from  the  younger  knights  of  the  Court  they  chose  Sir  % 
Marvaise  of  Leisle,  and  Sir  Lionel,  the  son  of  King  Ban  of    Table. 
Benwick,  and  Sir  Cadar  of  Cornwall.     So  that  there  was  one  place  yet  to 
be  filled. 

Now  it  was  a  very  hard  thing  to  determine  who  should  fill  that  place, 
for  there  were  at  that  time  two  very  honorable  young  knights  at   the 
Court.     One  of  these  was  Sir  Baudemagus,  a  young  knight,  brother  of  Sir 
Ewaine  and  son  of  King  Uriens  of  Gore  and  Queen  Morgana    They  choose 
le  Fay  (which  lady  was  half-sister  unto  King  Arthur  as  hath    three  young 
been  aforetold).     And  the  other  young  knight  was  Sir  Tor    the  Round 
who,  though  late  come  to  the  Court,  had  performed  several    Table- 
very   famous   adventures.     And   Sir   Tor   was  a  son  of   King  Pellinore 
(though  not  of  his  Queen),  and    King  Pellinore  loved  him  a  very  great 
deal. 

Then  King  Pellinore  said  to  King  Arthur,  "  Lord,  there  are  certainly 
but  two  knights  in  all  thy  Court  to  choose  from  for  to  fill  this  eighth  seat 
at  the  Round  Table  :  one  of  these  is  thy  sister's  son,  Sir  Baudemagus,  and 
the  other  is  my  son,  Sir  Tor.  Now  I  may  not  advise  thee  in  this  matter, 
wherefore  do  thou,  Lord,  choose  the  one  or  the  other  of  these  young 
knights  to  fill  that  place.  But  this  I  may  say,  that  it  will  please  me  very 
greatly  if  thy  favor  should  fall  upon  Sir  Baudemagus,  for  then  will  all  the 
world  believe  that  I  have  been  above  reproach  in  my  dealings  in  this  affair, 
whereas  should  Sir  Tor  be  chosen  all  men  would  say  that  I  favored  mine 
own  son." 

Then  King  Arthur  meditated  upon  this  matter  for  a  long  while  and  by 
and  by  he  spoke  and  said,  "  Sir,  I  have  weighed  this  whole   ^^  Arthur 
affair,  and  it  is  my  belief  that  Sir  Tor  is  the  better  knight  of  eh£*tkSirT*r 
those  twain.     For  he  hath  performed  several  very  excellent  fyg* Round 
adventures,  whilst  Sir  Baudemagus,  though  a  worthy  knight, 
hath  not  yet  made   manifest  any  very  great  achievement  in  the  fields  of 


158  PROLOGUE 

chivalry.  So,  in  God's  name,  let  Sir  Tor  be  seated  as  companion  of  the 
Round  Table." 

Then  King  Pellinore  said,  "  So  be  it,"  and  thereupon  they  both  arose 
and  went  forth  from  that  place. 

And,  lo !  that  very  moment  the  names  of  those  eight  worthies  so  chosen 
appeared  each  upon  the  back  of  the  seat  at  the  Round  Table  that  apper- 
tained unto  him,  and  so  the  decision  of  those  two  knights  was  confirmed 
in  the  sight  of  all  the  world  in  that  manner. 

Now  when  the  word  of  all  this  reached  the  ears  of  Queen  Morgana  le 
Fay  she  was  greatly  affronted  that  Sir  Baudemagus,  her  son,  should  have 
been  passed  by  and  that  another  should  have  been  chosen  in  his  stead. 
Wherefore  she  cried  out  against  King  Arthur  in  the  hearing 
of  several  people,  saying:  "Ha!  how  is  this!  is  blood  and 
fronted  with  kinship  of  no  account  in  the  eyes  of  this  King  that  he  passes 

King  Arthur.  ,  ,.,  ,."  ,  ,  . 

by  so  worthy  a  knight  as  his  own  nephew  to  choose  one  who 
is  not  of  lawful  birth  in  his  stead?  Now,  my  husband's  house  has  suffered 
many  grievous  ills  at  the  hands  of  King  Arthur,  for,  lo !  he  hath  taken 
away  our  royal  power  and  hath  made  us  all  little  better  than  captives  in 
his  own  Court.  This  in  itself  is  as  great  an  affront  as  though  we  were 
his  bitter  enemies  instead  of  his  nigh  of  kin.  But  this  that  he  hath  now 
done  to  my  son  in  thus  passing  him  by  is  a  greater  affront  than  that  other." 

And  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  spake  in  this  wise  not  only  to  King  Uriens, 
who  was  her  husband,  but  to  Sir  Ewaine  and  to  Sir  Baudemagus,  who  were 
her  sons.  But  King  Uriens  of  Gore  rebuked  her  for  her  speech,  for  he 
had  grown  to  love  King  Arthur  very  much  because  of  the  high  nobility 
of  his  nature,  and  likewise  Sir  Ewaine  rebuked  her  saying  that  he  would 
listen  to  no  ill  thing  said  of  King  Arthur,  for  that  not  only  did  he  love 
King  Arthur  better  than  anyone  else  in  all  the  world,  but  that  the  King 
was  at  once  the  looking-glass  of  all  knighthood  and  likewise  the  very 
fountain-head  of  honor. 

So  spake  these  two ;  but  Sir  Baudemagus  hearkened  to  what  his  mother, 
Queen  Morgana  said,  for  he  was  very  angry  with  King  Arthur  because 
the  King  had  passed  him  by.  Wherefore  he  took  his  departure  from  the 
Court  without  asking  leave  of  King  Arthur  and  went  errant  in  quest  of 
adventure,  and  at  this  King  Arthur  was  very  sorry. 

Now,  as  aforesaid,  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  spake  her  indignation  to  sev- 
eral other  people  of  the  Court,  so  that  word  thereof  came  at  last  to  the 
ears  of  King  Arthur  and  grieved  him  a  very  great  deal.  So  when  Queen 
Morgana  came  to  him  one  day  and  besought  his  leave  for  to  quit  the 
Court,  he  spake  to  her  with  great  sadness  of  spirit,  saying,  "  My  sister,  I 


PROLOGUE  I59 

am  very  sorry  that  you  are  not  pleased  with  what  I  have  done  in  this 
matter,  for  God  knows  that  I  have  endeavored  to  do  to  the  best  of  my 
power.  And  though  I  would  rather  a  great  deal  that  Sir  Baudemagus 
were  fellow  of  the  Round  Table,  yet  it  was  my  very  honest  belief  that,  for 
several  reasons,  Sir  Tor  had  the  best  right  to  a  seat  at  that  Table.  Now 
if  1  chose  otherwise  than  according  to  my  right  judgment,  what  virtue 
would  the  Round  Table  have,  seeing  that  I  should  have  shown  favor  unto 
a  man  because  of  his  kinship  to  me?" 

Then  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  said  with  great  heat,  "  Sir,  all  that  you  say 
only  adds  to  the  affront  that  our  house  hath  sustained  at  your  hands.  For 
now  you  not  only  deny  my  son  that  seat,  but  you  belittle  him  by  com- 
paring him  to  his  disadvantage  with  this  low-born  knight  whom  you  have 
chosen.  Now,  the  only  pleasure  that  I  can  have  in  talking  to  you  is  to 
beseech  you  to  let  me  go  away  from  this  place." 

Then  King  Arthur,  speaking  with  great  dignity,  said,  "  Lady,  it  shall  be 
as  you  would  have  it,  and  you  shall  go  whithersoever  it  pleases  you.  For 
God  forbid  that  I  should  stay  you  in  your  wishes.  Moreover,  I  shall  see 
to  it  that  you  shall  not  depart  from  this  place  without  such  a  Court  for 
company  as  may  very  well  befit  one  who  is  the  wife  of  one  king  and  the 
sister  of  another." 

And  so  he  did  as  he  said  he  would  do,  for  he  sent  Queen  Morgana  le 
Fay  away  from  his  Court  with  great  honor  and  in  high  estate 

r     .  n         'i  IT-          A  -AL    Queen  Morgana 

of  circumstance.     But  the  more  patient  King  Arthur  was  with  ie  pay  ieaveth 
her  and  the  more  he  showed  her  favor,  the  more  angry  Queen 
Morgana  le  Fay  was  with  him  and  the  more  she  hated  him. 

So  she  betook  her  way  to  an  estuary  of  the  sea  and  there  she  dismissed 
those  whom  the  King  had  sent  with  her  and  embarked  with  her  own 
Court  in  several  ships,  betaking  her  way  to  that  enchanted  isle,  hight 
Avalon,  which  was  her  home. 

This  island  of  Avalon  was  a  very  strange,  wonderful  land,  such  as  was 
not  to  be  seen  anywhere  else  in  all  the  world.  For  it  was  like  a  Paradise 
for  beauty,  being  covered  all  over  with  divers  gardens  of  flowers,  inter- 
mingled with  plantations  of  fair  trees,  some  bearing  fruit  and  others  all 
a-bloom  with  blossoms.  And  besides  these  were  many  terraces  of  lawns, 
and  smooth  slopes  of  grass  lying  all  about  the  borders  of  the  island,  and 
overlooking  the  sea  from  tall  white  walls  of  pure  marble.  And  in  the 
midst  of  these  gardens  and  orchards  and  plantations  and  lawns  and  ter- 
races, were  a  multitude  of  castles  and  towers  built  up  the  one  above  the 
other — some  as  white  as  snow  and  others  very  gay  with  many  colors. 

And  the  greatest  marvel  of  that  wonderful  island  was  this :  that  in  the 


160  PROLOGUE 

midst  of  all  those  castles  and  towers  was  a  single  tower  built  entirely  of 
loadstone.  And  in  that  lay  the  great  mystery  of  that  place. 

For  the  island  floated  upon  the  surface  of  the  water,  and  that  tower  of 
loadstone  possessed  such  a  potency  that  Avalon  would  float  from  place  to 
place  according  to  the  will  of  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay,  so  that  sometimes  it 
would  be  here,  and  sometimes  it  would  be  there,  as  that  royal  lady  willed 
it  to  be. 

Nor  was  there  a  very  many  people  who  had  seen  that  island,  for  some- 
whiles  it  would  be  all  covered  over  with  a  mist  of  enchantment  like  to 
silver,  so  that  nd  eyes  could  behold  it  unless  they  were  fay.  But  some- 
times it  had  been  seen,  as  it  were  a  vision  of  Paradise.  What  time  he  who 
beheld  it  would  hear  gay  voices  sounding  from  its  lawns  and  plantations — 
very  thin  and  clear  because  of  the  great  distance  (for  no  one  ever  came 
nigh  to  Avalon  unless  by  authority  of  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay),  and  he 
would  hear  music  of  so  sweet  a  sort  that  it  was  likely  that  his  soul  would 
grow  all  faint  because  of  the  music.  Then  Avalon  would  suddenly  dis- 
appear very  marvellously,  and  he  who  had  seen  it  would  be  aware  that  it 
was  not  likely  that  he  would  ever  see  it  again. 

Such  was  the  island  of  Avalon,  and  if  you  would  read  of  it  more  particu- 
larly you  shall  find  much  about  it  in  a  certain  book  written  in  French  and 
called  "  Ogier  le  Danois." 

Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  loved  this  island  a  very  great  deal,  and  it  is  said 
by  many  that  King  Arthur  is  yet  alive  in  that  place,  lying  there  very 
peacefully  and  tranquilly  whiles  he  awaits  that  certain  time  when  he  shall 
return  unto  the  world  to  make  right  all  that  is  wrong  therein.  So  it  is  I 
have  told  you  of  it  with  these  particulars  at  this  place. 


PART   I 
The  Story  of  Merlin 


T-JERE  followeth  a  particular  account  of  the  enchantment  of  Merlin  by  a 
certain  damsel,  hight  Vivien,  and  of  all  the  circumstances  thereunto 
appertain  ing. 

Likewise  it  is  to  be  narrated  how  King  Arthur  was  betrayed  by  his  own 
sister,  and  of  how  he  would  certainly  have  been  slain  only  for  the  help  of  that 
same  enchantress  Vivien  who  was  the  cause  of  Merlirfs  undoing. 

Also  it  shall  be  told  how  the  sheath  of  Excalibur  was  lost  at  that  time. 


Chapter  First. 

How  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  Meditated  Evil  Against  King  Arthur 
and  How  She  Sent  a  Damsel  to  Beguile  the  Enchanter,  Merlin. 

NOW    Morgana   le    Fay  was   a   very   cunning   enchantress,    and 
was  so  much  mistress  of  magic  that   she  could,  by  means  of 
potent  spells,  work  her  will  upon  all  things,  whether  quick  or 
dead.     For  Merlin  himself  had  been  her  master  in  times  past,  and  had 
taught  her  his  arts  whilst  she  was  still  a  young  damsel  at  the  Court  of 
Uther-Pendragon.     So  it  was  that,  next  to  Merlin,  she  was,  at  that  time, 
the  most  potent  enchanter  in  all  the  world.      Nevertheless  she  lacked 
Merlin's  foreknowledge  of  things  to  happen  and  his  gift  of  prophecy 
thereupon,  for  these  things  he  could  not  impart  unto  anyone,  wherefore 
she  had  not  learned  them  of  him. 

Now,  after  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  had  come  to  the  Island  of  Avalon  as 
aforetold,  she  brooded  a  great  deal  over  that  affront  which  she  deemed  King 
Arthur  had  placed  upon  her  house ;  and  the  more  she  brooded       ^  M^  ^ 
upon  it  the  more  big  did  it  become  in  her  mind.    Wherefore,  at  contemplates 
last,  it  seemed  to  her  that  she  could  have  no  pleasure  in  life  e^n^^urt 
unless  she  could  punish  King  Arthur  for  that  which  he  had 
done.     Yea ;  she  would  have  been  glad  to  see  him  dead  at  her  feet  because 
of  the  anger  that  she  felt  against  him. 


1  64  THE    STORY  OF  MERLIN 

But  Queen  Morgana  was  very  well  aware  that  she  could  never  do  the 
King,  her  brother,  an  injury  so  long  as  Merlin  was  there  to  safeguard  him, 
for  Merlin  would  certainly  foresee  any  danger  that  might  threaten  the 
King,  and  would  counteract  it,  wherefore  she  was  aware  that  if  she  would 
destroy  the  King,  she  must  first  destroy  Merlin. 

Now,  there  was  at  the  Court  of  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay,  a  certain  damsel 
of  such  marvellous  and  bewitching  beauty  that  her  like  was  hardly  to  be 
seen  in  all  of  the  world.  This  damsel  was  fifteen  years  old  and  of  royal 
blood,  being  the  daughter  of  the  King  of  Northumberland  ;  and  her  name 
was  Vivien.  This  damsel,  Vivien,  was  both  wise  and  cunning  beyond  all 
measure  for  one  so  young.  Moreover,  she  was  without  any  heart,  being 
cold  and  cruel  to  all  who  were  contrary-minded  to  her  wishes.  So,  because 
she  was  so  cunning  and  wise,  Queen  Morgana  liked  her  and  taught  her 
many  things  of  magic  and  sorcery  which  she  knew.  But,  notwithstanding 
all  that  Queen  Morgana  did  for  her,  this  maiden  did  not  feel  any  love  for 
her  mistress,  being  altogether  devoid  of  heart. 

One  day  this  damsel  and  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  sat  together  in  a  garden 

of  that  magic  island  of  Avalon,  and  the  garden  was  upon  a  very  high 

terrace  and  overlooked  the  sea.     And  the  day  was  very  fair 

Queen  Morgana          ,      .  ,       .    ..       .  .  . 

taiketh  -with       and   the  sea  so  wonderfully  blue  that  it  appeared  to  be  as 


though  the  blue  sky  had  melted  into  water  and  the  water  into 
the  sky.  As  Vivien  and  the  Queen  sat  in  this  beautiful  place, 
the  Queen  said  to  the  damsel,  "  Vivien,  what  wouldst  thou  rather  have 
than  anything  else  in  all  the  world?"  To  which  Vivien  replied, 
'*  Lady,  I  would  rather  have  such  wisdom  as  thou  hast,  than  anything 
else." 

Then  Queen  Morgana  laughed  and  said,  "  It  is  possible  for  thee  to  be  as 
wise  as  I  am,  and  wiser  too,  if  so  be  thou  wilt  do  according  to  my  ordina- 
tion. For  I  know  a  way  in  which  thou  mayst  obtain  wisdom." 

"  How  may  I  obtain  that  wisdom,  Lady?"  said  Vivien. 

Then  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  said,  "  Hearken  and  I  will  tell  thee.  Thou 
must  know  that  Merlin,  whom  thou  hast  several  times  seen  at  the  Court 
of  King  Arthur,  is  the  master  of  all  the  wisdom  that  it  is  possible  for  any- 
one to  possess  in  this  world.  All  that  I  know  of  magic  Merlin  hath  taught 
me,  and  he  knoweth  many  things  that  he  did  not  teach  me,  but  which  he 
withheld  from  me.  For  Merlin  taught  me,  when  I  was  a  young  damsel  at 
the  Court  of  my  mother's  husband,  because  I  was  beautiful  in  his  eyes. 
For  Merlin  loveth  beauty  above  all  things  else  in  the  world,  and  so  he 
taught  me  many  things  of  magic  and  was  very  patient  with  me. 

"  But  Merlin  hath  a  gift  which  belongeth  to  him  and  which  he  cannot 


QUEEN  MORGANA    TALKS   TO    VIVIEN  165 

communicate  to  anyone  else,  for  it  is  instinct  with  him.  That  gift  is  the 
gift  of  foreseeing  into  the  future  and  the  power  of  prophesying  there- 
upon. 

"  Yet  though  he  may  foresee  the  fate  of  others,  still  he  is  blind  to  his 
own  fate.  For  so  he  confessed  to  me  several  times :  that  he  could  not  tell 
what  was  to  happen  in  his  own  life  when  that  happening  concerned  him- 
self  alone. 

"  Now  thou,  Vivien,  art  far  more  beautiful  than  I  was  at  thine  age. 
Wherefore  I  believe  that  thou  wilt  easily  attract  the  regard  of  Merlin  unto 
thee.  And  if  I  give  thee,  besides,  a  certain  charm  which  I  possess,  I  may 
cause  it  to  be  that  Merlin  may  love  thee  so  much  that  he  will  impart  to 
thee  a  great  deal  more  of  his  wisdom  than  ever  he  taught  me  when  I  was 
his  disciple. 

"  But  thou  art  to  know,  Vivien,  that  in  winning  this  gift  of  knowledge 
from  Merlin  thou  wilt  put  thyself  in  great  peril.  For,  by  and  by,  when 
the  charm  of  thy  beauty  shall  have  waned  with  him,  then  he  may  easily 
regret  what  he  hath  done  in  imparting  his  wisdom  to  thee ;  in  the  which 
case  there  will  be  great  danger  that  he  may  lay  some  spell  upon  thee  to 
deprive  thee  of  thy  powers ;  for  it  would  be  impossible  that  both  thou 
and  he  could  live  in  the  same  world  and  each  of  ye  know  so  much  cunning 
of  magic." 

Now  unto  all  this  Vivien  listened  with  a  great  deal  of  attention,  and 
when  Queen  Morgana  had  ended  the  damsel  said,  "  Dear  Lady,  all  that 
thou  tellest  me  is  very  wonderful,  and  I  find  myself  possessed  with  a  ve- 
hement desire  to  attain  such  knowledge  in  magic  as  that.  Wherefore,  if 
thou  wilt  help  me  in  this  matter  so  that  I  may  beguile  his  wisdom  from 
Merlin,  thou  wilt  make  of  me  a  debtor  unto  thee  for  as  long  as  I  may  live. 
And  touching  the  matter  of  any  danger  that  may  fall  to  me  in  this  affair,! 
am  altogether  willing  to  assume  that;  for  I  have  a  great  hope  that  I  may 
be  able  so  to  protect  myself  from  Merlin  that  no  harm  shall  befall  me. 
For  when  I  have  drawn  all  the  knowledge  that  I  am  able  to  obtain  from 
him,  then  I  will  use  that  same  knowledge  to  cast  such  a  spell  upon  him 
that  he  shall  never  be  able  to  harm  me  or  anyone  else  again.  In  this  I 
shall  play  my  wit  against  his  wisdom  and  my  beauty  against  his  cunning, 
and  I  believe  that  I  shall  win  at  that  game." 

Then  Queen  Morgana  fell  a-laughing  beyond  all  measure,  and  when  she 
had  stinted  her  laughter,  she  cried,  "  Hey,  Vivien  !  certes  thou  art  cunning 
beyond  anything  that  I  ever  heard  tell  of,  and  I  believe  that  thou  art  as 
wicked  as  thou  art  cunning.  For  whoever  heard  of  a  child  of  fifteen 
years  old  who  would  speak  such  words  as  thou  hast  just  now  spoken ; 


166  THE   STORY  OF  MERLIN 

or  whoever  could  suppose  that  so  young  a  girl  could  conceive  the 
thought  of  compassing  the  downfall  of  the  wisest  magician  who  hath  ever 
lived." 

Then  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  set  to  her  lips  a  small  whistle  of  ivory  and 
gold  and  blew  very  shrilly  upon  it,  and  in  reply  there  came  running  a 
young  page  of  her  Court.  Queen  Morgana  commanded  him  to  bring 
to  her  a  certain  casket  of  alabaster,  cunningly  carved  and  adorned  with 
gold  and  set  with  several  precious  stones.  And  Queen  Morgana  opened 
the  box  and  took  from  within  it  two  rings  of  pure  yellow  gold,  beautifully 
wrought  and  setythe  one  ring  with  a  clear  white  stone  of  extraordinary 

brilliancy,  and  the  other  with  a  stone  as  red  as  blood.  Then 
g?vcth  Vivien"  Queen  Morgana  said,  "  Vivien,  behold  these  two  rings !  They 
two  enchanted  possess  each  a  spell  of  wonderful  potency.  For  if  thou  wear- 

est  that  ring  with  the  white  stone,  whoever  weareth  the 
ring  with  the  red  stone  shall  love  thee  with  such  a  passion  of  love  that 
thou  mayst  do  with  him  whatever  thou  hast  a  will  to  do.  So  take  these 
rings  and  go  to  King  Arthur's  Court  and  use  them  as  thy  cunning  may 
devise." 

So  Vivien  took  the  two  rings  and  gave  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  thanks 
beyond  all  measure  for  them. 

Now  King  Arthur  took  much  pleasure  in  holding  a  great  feast  each 
Pentecost,  at  which  time  his  Court  was  gathered  about  him  with  much 
mirth  and  rejoicing.  At  such  times  it  delighted  him  to  have  some  excel- 
lent entertainment  for  to  amuse  himself  and  his  Court,  wherefore  it  befell 
that  nearly  always  something  happened  that  gave  much  entertainment  to 
the  King.  So  came  the  Feast  of  Pentecost,  and  King  Arthur  sat  at  the 
table  with  a  great  many  noble  and  lordly  folk  and  several  kings  and 
queens.  Now  as  they  all  sat  at  that  feast,  their  spirits  greatly  expanded 
Vivien  appears  with  mirth  and  good  cheer,  there  suddenly  came  into  the  hall 
before  King  a  very  beautiful  younsf  damsel,  and  with  her  a  dwarf, 

Arthur  at  the  .  J  c  J 

Feast  of  Pente-  wonderfully  misshapen  and  of  a  very  hideous  countenance. 
eost-  And  the  maiden  was  dressed  all  in  flame-colored  satin,  very 

rich,  and  with  beautiful  embroidery  of  gold  and  embroidery  of  silver. 
And  her  hair,  which  was  red  like  gold,  was  coiled  into  a  net  of  gold. 
And  her  eyes  were  black  as  coals  and  extraordinarily  bright  and  glisten- 
ing. And  she  had  about  her  throat  a  necklace  of  gold  of  three  strands,  so 
that  with  all  that  gold  and  those  bright  garments  she  shone  with  wonder- 
ful splendor  as  she  entered  the  hall.  Likewise,  the  dwarf  who  accom- 
panied her  was  clad  all  in  flame-colored  raiment,  and  he  bore  in  his  hands  a 


VIVIEN  COMES   TO    COURT  WITH  THE    KING  167 

cushion  of  flame-colored  silk  with  tassels  of  gold,  and  upon  the  cushion  he 
bare  a  ring  of  exceeding  beauty  set  with  a  red  stone. 

So  when  King  Arthur  beheld  this  beautiful  maiden  he  supposed  nothing 
else,  than  that  there  was  some  excellent  entertainment,  and  at  that  he 
rejoiced  a  very  great  deal. 

But  when  he  looked  well  at  the  damsel  it  appeared  to  him  that  he  knew 
her  face,  wherefore  he  said  to  her,  "Damsel,  who  art  thou?"  "Sir/'  she 
said,  "  I  am  the  daughter  of  the  King  of  Northumberland,  and  my  name  is 
Vivien,"  and  thereat  King  Arthur  was  satisfied. 

Then  King  Arthur  said  to  her,  "  Lady,  what  is  that  thou  hast  upon  yonder 
cushion,  and  why  hast  thou  honored  us  by  coming  hitherward  ?  "  To  the 
which  Vivien  made  reply,  "  Lord,  I  have  here  a  very  good  entertainment 
for  to  give  you  pleasure  at  this  Feast  of  Pentecost.  For  here  is  a  ring  of 
such  a  sort  that  only  he  who  is  the  most  wise  and  the  most  worthy  of  all  men 
here  present  may  wear  it."  And  King  Arthur  said,  "  Let  us  see  the  ring." 

So  Vivien  took  the  ring  from  the  cushion  which  the  dwarf  held  and  she 
came  and  brought  it  unto  King  Arthur,  and  the  King  took  the  ring  into 
his  own  hand.  And  he  perceived  that  the  ring  was  extraordinarily  beauti- 
ful, wherefore  he  said,  "  Maiden,  have  I  thy  leave  to  try  this  ring  upon  my 
finger  ?  "  And  Vivien  said,  "  Yea,  lord." 

So  King  Arthur  made  attempt  to  place  the  ring  upon  his    Ki     Arthur 
finger ;  but,  lo  !  the  ring  shrank  in  size  so  that  it  would  not    trieth  on  the 
pass  beyond  the  first  joint  thereof.     Wherefore  King  Arthur    ring- 
said,  "  It  would  appear  that  I  am  not  worthy  to  wear  this  ring." 

Then  the  damsel,  Vivien,  said,  "  Have  I  my  lord's  leave  to  offer  this  ring 
to  others  of  his  Court  ?"  And  King  Arthur  said,  "  Let  the  others  try  the 
ring."  So  Vivien  took  the  ring  to  the  various  folk  of  the  Court,  both  lords 
and  ladies,  but  not  one  of  these  could  wear  the  ring.  Then  last  of  all 
Vivien  came  to  the  place  where  Merlin  sat,  and  she  kneeled  upon  the 
ground  before  him  and  offered  the  ring  to  him  ;  and  Merlin,  because  this 
concerned  himself,  could  not  forecast  into  the  future  to  know  that  harm 
was  intended  to  him.  Nevertheless  he  looked  sourly  upon  the  damsel  and 
he  said,  "Child,  what  is  this  silly  trick  thou  offerest  me?"  "Sir,"  quoth 
Vivien,  "  I  beseech  you  for  to  try  this  ring  upon  your  finger."  Then 
Merlin  regarded  the  damsel  more  closely,  and  he  perceived  that  she  was 
very  beautiful,  wherefore  his  heart  softened  toward  her  a  great  deal.  So 
he  spake  more  gently  unto  her  and  he  said,  "  Wherefore  should  ^^  ^^M 
I  take  the  ring  ?  "  To  the  which  she  made  reply,  "  Because  the  ring. 
I  believe  that  thou  art  the  most  wise  and  the  most  worthy 
of  any  man  in  all  this  place,  wherefore  the  ring  should  belong  to  thee." 


1 68  THE    STORY  OF  MERLIN 


Then  Merlin  smiled,  and  took  the  ring  and  placed  it  upon  his  finger,  and, 
lo !  it  fitted  the  finger  exactly.  Thereupon  Vivien  cried  out,  "  See !  the 
ring  hath  fitted  his  finger  and  he  is  the  most  wise  and  the  most  worthy." 
And  Merlin  was  greatly  pleased  that  the  ring  which  the  beautiful  dam- 
sel had  given  him  had  fitted  his  finger  in  that  way. 

Then,  after  a  while,  he  would  have  withdrawn  the  ring  again  but,  behold  ! 
he  could  not,  for  the  ring  had  grown  to  his  finger  as  though  it  were  a 
part  of  the  flesh  and  the  bone  thereof.  At  this  Merlin  became  much 
troubled  in  spirit  and  very  anxious,  for  he  did  not  understand  what  might 
be  meant  by  the' magic  of  the  ring.  So  he  said,  "  Lady,  whence  came  this 
ring?"  And  Vivien  said,  "  Sir,  thou  knowest  all  things;  dost  thou  then 
not  know  that  this  ring  was  sent  hitherward  from  Morgana  le  Fay  ?  " 
Then  again  Merlin  was  greatly  a-doubt,  and  he  said,  "  I  hope  there  may 
be  no  evil  in  this  ring."  And  Vivien  smiled  upon  him  and  said,  "  What 
evil  could  there  be  in  it?" 

Now  by  this  time  the  great  magic  that  was  in  the  ring  began  to  work 
upon  Merlin's  spirit,  wherefore  he  regarded  Vivien  very  steadily,  and  sud- 
denly he  took  great  pleasure  in  her  beauty.  Then  the  magic  of  the  ring 
gat  entire  hold  upon  him  and,  lo  !  a  wonderful  passion  immediately  seized 
upon  his  heart  and  wrung  it  so  that  it  was  pierced  as  with  a  violent  agony. 

And  Vivien  beheld  what  passed  in  Merlin's  mind,  and  she  laughed  and 
turned  away.  And  several  others  who  were  there  also  observed  the  very 
strange  manner  in  which  Merlin  regarded  her,  wherefore  they  said  among 
themselves,  "  Of  a  surety  Merlin  is  bewitched  by  the  beauty  of  that  young 
damoiselle." 

So,  after  that  time  the  enchantment  of  the  ring  of  Morgana  le  Fay  so 
wrought  upon  Merlin's  spirit  that  he  could  in  no  wise  disentangle  himself, 
from  Vivien's  witchery;  for  from  that  day  forth,  whithersoever  she  went, 
there  he  might  be  found  not  far  away;  and  if  she  was  in  the  garden, 'he 
Therin  -work  wou^  ^e  there ;  and  if  she  was  in  the  Hall,  he  also  would  be 
etk  its  charm  there ;  and  if  she  went  a-hawking  he  would  also  be  a-horse- 
back'  And  al1  the  Court  observed  these  things  and  many 
made  themselves  merry  and  jested  upon  it.  But,  Vivien  hated 
Merlin  with  all  her  might,  for  she  saw  that  they  all  made  merry  at  that 
folly  of  Merlin's,  and  he  wearied  her  with  his  regard.  But  she  dissembled 
this  disregard  before  his  face  and  behaved  to  him  in  all  ways  as  though 
she  had  a  great  friendship  for  him. 

Now  it  happened  upon  a  day  that  Vivien  sat  in  the  garden,  and  it  was 
wonderfully  pleasant  summer  weather,  and  Merlin  came  into  the  garden 
and  beheld  Vivien  where  she  sat.  But  when  Vivien  perceived  Merlin 


VIVIEN  TEMPTS  MERLIN  !69 

coming  she  suddenly  felt  so  great  a  disregard  for  him  that  she  could  not 
Dear  for  to  be  nigh  him  at  that  time,  wherefore  she  arose  in  haste  with  in- 
tent to  escape  from  him.  But  Merlin  hurried  and  overtook  her  and  he 
said  to  her,  "  Child,  do  you  then  hate  me  ?  "  And  Vivien  said,  "  Sir,  I  do 
not  hate  you."  But  Merlin  said,  "  In  very  truth  I  believe  that  you  do  hate 
me."  And  Vivien  was  silent. 

Then  in  a  little  Merlin  said,  "  I  would  that  I  knew  what  I  might  do  for 
you  so  that  you  would  cease  to  hate  me,  for  I  find  that  I  have  a  wonderful 
love  for  you."  Upon  this  Vivien  looked  at  Merlin  very  strangely,  and  by 
and  by  she  said,  "  Sir,  if  you  would  only  impart  your  wisdom  and  your 
cunning  unto  me,  then  I  believe  that  I  could  love  you  a  very  great  deal. 
For,  behold !  I  am  but  as  a  young  child  in  knowledge  and  thou  art  so  old 
and  so  wise  that  I  am  afraid  of  thee.  If  thou  wouldst  teach  me  thy  wisdom 
so  that  I  might  be  thine  equal,  then  haply  I  might  grow  to  have  such  a 
regard  for  thee  as  thou  wouldst  have  me  feel.'* 

Upon  this  Merlin  looked  very  steadily  at  Vivien  and  he  said,  "  Damsel, 
thou  art,  certes,  no  such  foolish  child  as  thou  dost  proclaim  thyself  to  be ; 
for  I  see  that  thine  eyes  are  very  bright  with  a  cunning  beyond  thy  years. 
Now  I  misdoubt  that  if  I  should  teach  thee  the  wisdom  which  thou  dost 
desire  to  possess,  either  it  would  be  to  thy  undoing  or  else  it  would  be 
to  my  undoing." 

Then  Vivien  cried  out  with  a  very  loud  and  piercing  voice,  "  Merlin,  if 
thou  dost  love  me,  teach  me  thy  wisdom  and  the  cunning  of  thy  magic  and 
then  I  will  love  thee  beyond  anyone  else  in  all  the  world ! " 

But  Merlin  sighed  very  deeply,  for  his  heart  misgave  him.  Then  by  and 
by  he  said,  "  Vivien,  thou  shalt  have  thy  will  and  I  will  teach  thee  all  those 
things  of  wisdom  and  magic  that  thou  desirest  to  know." 

Upon  this  Vivien  was  filled  with  such  vehement  agony  of  joy  that  she 
did  not  dare  to  let  Merlin  look  into  her  countenance  lest  he  should  read 
what  was  therein  written.  Wherefore  she  cast  down  her  eyes  and  turned 
her  face  away  from  him.  Then  in  a  little  while  she  said,  "  Master,  when 
wilt  thou  teach  me  that  wisdom?" 

To  this  Merlin  made  reply,  "  I  shall  not  teach  thee  to-day  nor  to-morrow 
nor  at  this  place ;  for  I  can  only  teach  thee  those  knowledges  in  such  soli- 
tude that  there  shall  be  nothing  to  disturb  thy  studies.  But  to-morrow 
thou  shalt  tell  King  Arthur  that  thou  must  return  unto  thy  father's  king- 
dom. Then  we  will  depart  together  accompanied  by  thy  Court ;  and  when 
we  have  come  to  some  secluded  place,  there  I  will  build  a  habitation  by 
the  means  of  my  magic  and  we  shall  abide  therein  until  I  have  instructed 
thee  in  wisdom." 


1 70  THE  STORY  OF  MERLIN 

Then  Vivien  made  great  joy,  and  she  caught  Merlin's  hand  in  hers  and 
she  kissed  his  hand  with  great  passion. 

So  the  next  day  Vivien  besought  King  Arthur  that  he  would  give  her 

leave  to  return  unto  her  father's  Court,  and  upon  the  third  day 

Vivien  depart     sne   an<3   Merlin  and  a  number  of   attendants  who  were  in 

from  the  Court    service  upon  the  damsel,  quitted  the.  Court  of  King  Arthur 

and  departed  as  though  to  go  upon  their  way  to  the  Kingdom 

of  Northumberland. 

But  after  they  had  gone  some  little  distance  from  the  Court  of  the  King^ 
they  turned  to  the  eastward  and  took  their  way  toward  a  certain  valley  of 
which  Merlin  was  acquainted,  and  which  was  so  fair  and  pleasant  a  place 
that  it  was  sometimes  called  the  Valley  of  Delight,  and  sometimes  the 
Valley  of  Joyousness. 


iotrobetoiteljesMerlin. 


Chapter  Second. 


How  Merlin  Journeyed  With  Vivien  Unto  the  Valley  of  Joyous- 
ness  and  How  He  Builded  for  Her  a  Castle  at  That  Place. 
Also,  How  He  Taught  Her  the  Wisdom  of  Magic  and  of  How 
She  Compassed  His  Downfall  Thereby. 

SO,  Merlin  and  Vivien  and  those  who  were  with  them  travelled  for 
three  days  to  the  eastward,  until,  toward  the  end  of  the  third  day, 
they  reached  the  confines  of  a  very  dark  and  dismal  forest.     And 
there  they  beheld  before  them  trees  so  thickly  interwoven  together  that 
the  eyes  could  not  see  anything  at  all  of  the  sky  because  of  the  thickness 
of   the  foliage.      And  they   beheld  the   branches   and   the   roots  of  the 
trees   that   they   appeared  like   serpents   all   twisted   together.      Where- 
fore Vivien  said,  "  Sir,  this   is  a   very  dismal  woodland."     "  Yea,"  said 
Merlin,  "  so  it  appeareth  to  be.     Ne'theless  there  lieth  within    Merlin  and 
this  forest  that  place   which  is  called  by  some  the  Valley  of    Vivien  come  to 
Joyousness,  and  by  others  the  Valley  of  Delight,  because  of   a"0*™hanted 
the  great  beauty  of  that  place.     And  there  are  several  path- 
ways extending  through  this  forest  by  the  means  of  which  that  valley  may 
be  reached  by  a  man,  whether  a-horse  or  afoot." 

And  after  a  while  they  found  it  was  as  Merlin  said,  for  they  came  by 
and  by  upon  one  of  those  pathways  and  entered  it  and  penetrated  into  the 
forest.  And,  lo !  within  that  doleful  woodland  it  was  so  dark  that  it 
appeared  as  though  night-time  had  fallen,  although  it  was  bright  daylight 
beyond  the  borders  thereof,  wherefore  many  of  that  party  were  very 
much  afraid.  But  Merlin  ever  gave  them  good  cheer  and  so  they  went 
forward  upon  their  way.  So,  by  and  by,  they  came  out  at  last  from 
that  place  and  into  the  open  again,  whereat  they  were  greatly  rejoiced 
and  took  much  comfort. 

Now,  by  this  time,  the  evening  had  come,  very  peaceful  and  tranquil, 


174  THE   STORY  OF  MERLIN 

and  they  beheld  beneath  them  a  valley  spread  out  in  that  light  and  it  was 

wonderfully  beautiful.     And  in  the  centre  of  the  valley  was  a  small  lake 

so   smooth  and   clear,  like  to  crystal,   that  it  appeared   like 

Merlin  and  ,      ,  .    ,  ,        ,  . .  .    ; ,  ,       . 

Vivien  comes      an  °val  shield  of  pure   silver  laid   down  upon  the   ground. 
to  the  Valley       And  all  about  the  margin  of  the  lake  were  level  meadows 

of Joyousness. 

covered  over  with  an  incredible  multitude  of  flowers  of 
divers  colors  and  kinds,  very  beautiful  to  behold. 

When  Vivien  saw  this  place  she  cried  unto  Merlin,  "  Master,  this  is, 
indeed,  a  very  joyous  valley,  for  I  do  not  believe  that  the  blessed  meadows 
of  Paradise  are  more  beautiful  than  this."  And  Merlin  said,  "  Very  well; 
let  us  go  down  into  it."  So  they  went  down  and,  as  they  descended,  the 
night  fell  apace  and  the  round  moon  arose  into  the  sky  and  it  was  hard  to 
tell  whether  that  valley  was  the  more  beautiful  in  the  daytime  or  whether 
it  was  the  more  beautiful  when  the  moon  shone  down  upon  it  in  that  wise. 

So  they  all  came  at  last  unto  the  borders  of  the  lake  and  they  perceived 
that  there  was  neither  house  nor  castle  at  that  place. 

Now  upon  this  the  followers  of  Merlin  murmured  amongst  themselves, 
saying,  "  This  enchanter  hath  brought  us  hitherward,  but  how  will  he  now 
provide  for  us  that  we  may  find  a  resting-place  that  may  shelter  us  from 
the  inclement  changes  of  the  weather.  For  the  beauty  of  this  spot  cannot 
alone  shelter  us  from  rain  and  storm."  And  Merlin  overheard  their  mur- 
murings  and  he  said,  "  Peace  !  take  ye  no  trouble  upon  that  matter,  for  I 
will  very  soon  provide  ye  a  good  resting-place."  Then  he  said  to  them, 
"  Stand  ye  a  little  distance  aside  till  I  show  ye  what  I  shall  do."  So  they 
withdrew  a  little,  as  he  commanded  them,  and  he  and  Vivien  remained 
where  they  were.  And  Vivien  said,  "  Master,  what  wilt  thou  do?  "  And 
Merlin  said,  "  Wait  a  little  and  thou  shalt  see." 

Therewith  he  began  a  certain  very  powerful  conjuration  so  that  the 
earth  began  for  to  tremble  and  to  shake  and  an  appearance  as  of  a  great 
red  dust  arose  into  the  air.  And  in  this  dust  there  began  to  appear  sun- 
dry shapes  and  forms,  and  these  shapes  and  forms  arose  very  high  into  the 
air  and  by  and  by  those  who  gazed  thereon  perceived  that  there  was  a 
great  structure  apparent  in  the  midst  of  the  cloud  of  red  dust. 

Then,  after  a  while,  all  became  quiet  and  the  dust  slowly  disappeared 

from  the  air,  and,  behold  !  there  was  the  appearance  of  a  mar- 

ti'castU  by  the     vellous  castle  such  as  no  one  there  had  ever  beheld  before, 

means  of  his       even  in  a  dream.     For  the  walls  thereof  were  of  ultramarine 

and  vermilion  and  they  were  embellished  and  adorned  with 

figures  of  gold,  wherefore  that  castle  showed  in  the  moonlight  like  as  it 

were  a  pure  vision  of  great  glory. 


MERLIN  PROMISES   TO  INSTRUCT   VIVIEN  175 

Now  Vivien  beheld  all  that  Merlin  had  accomplished  and  she  went  unto 
him  and  kneeled  down  upon  the  ground  before  him  and  took  his  hand  and 
set  it  to  her  lips.  And  while  she  kneeled  thus,  she  said,  "  Master,  this  is 
assuredly  the  most  wonderful  thing  in  the  world.  Wilt  thou  then  teach  me 
such  magic  that  I  may  be  able  to  build  a  castle  like  this  castle  out  of  the 
elements?"  And  Merlin  said,  "Yea;  all  this  will  I  teach  thee  and  more 
besides  ;  for  I  will  teach  thee  not  only  how  thou  mayst  create  such  a 
structure  as  this  out  of  invisible  things,  but  will  also  teach  thee  how  thou 
mayst,  with  a  single  touch  of  thy  wand,  dissipate  that  castle  instantly  into 
the  air  ;  even  as  a  child,  with  a  stroke  of  a  straw,  may  dissipate  a  beautiful 
shining  bubble,  which,  upon  an  instant  is,  and  upon  another  instant  is  not. 
And  I  will  teach  thee  more  than  that,  for  I  will  teach  thee  how  to  change 
and  transform  a  thing  into  the  semblance  of  a  different  thing  ;  and  I  will 
teach  thee  spells  and  charms  such  as  thou  didst  never  hear  tell  of  before." 

Then  Vivien  cried  out,  "  Master,  thou  art  the  most  wonderful  man  in  all 
of  the  world  !  "  And  Merlin  looked  upon  Vivien  and  her  face  was  very 
beautiful  in  the  moonlight  and  he  loved  her  a  very  great  deal.  Wherefore 
he  smiled  upon  her  and  said,  "  Vivien,  dost  thou  still  hate  me?  "  And  she 
said,  "  Nay,  master." 

But  she  spake  not  the  truth,  for  in  her  heart  she  was  evil  and  the  heart  of 
Merlin  was  good,  and  that  which  is  evil  will  always  hate  that  which  is 
good.  Wherefore,  though  Vivien  lusted  for  the  knowledge  of  necro- 
mancy, and  though  she  spake  so  lovingly  with  her  lips,  yet  in  her  spirit 
she  both  feared  and  hated  Merlin  because  of  his  wisdom.  For  she  wist 
right  well  that,  except  for  the  enchantment  of  that  ring  which  he  wore, 

I  Merlin  would  not  love  her  any  longer  in  that  wise.  Wherefore  she  said 
in  her  heart,  "  If  Merlin  teaches  me  all  of  his  wisdom,  then  the  world 
cannot  contain  both  him  and  me." 

Now  Merlin  abided  with  Vivien  in  that  place  for  a  year  and  a  little 
I    more,  and  in  that  time  he  taught  her  all  of  magic  that  he  was  able   to 
impart.     So  at  the  end  of  that  time  he  said  unto  her,  "  Vivien,  I  have  now 
taught  thee  so  much  that  I  believe  there  is  no  one  in  all  of  the  world  who 
knoweth  more  than  thou  dost  of  these  things  of  magic  which  thou  hast 
studied  in  this  time.     For  not  only  hast  thou  such  power  of   Merlin  teach- 
sorcery  that  thou  canst  make  the  invisible  elements  take  form    et^.^ic  to 
at  thy  will,  and  not  only  canst  thou  transform  at  thy  will  one 
thing  into  the  appearance  of  an  altogether  different  thing,  but  thou  hast 
such  potent  magic  in  thy  possession  that  thou  mayst  entangle  any  living 
soul  into  the  meshes  thereof,  unless  that  one  hath  some  very  good  talisman 


176  THE   STORY  OF  MERLIN 

to  defend  himself  from  thy  wiles.     Nor  have  I  myself  very  much  more 
power  than  this  that  I  have  given  to  thee." 

So  said  Merlin,  and  Vivien  was  filled  with  great  joy.  And  she  said  in 
her  heart,  "  Now,  Merlin,  if  I  have  the  good  fortune  to  entangle  thee  in 
my  spells,  then  shalt  thou  never  behold  the  world  again." 

Now,  when  the  next  day  had  come,  Vivien,  caused  a  very  noble  feast  to 
be  prepared  for  herself  and  Merlin.  And  by  means  of  the  knowledge 
Vivien  setuth  wn^c^  Merlin  had  imparted  to  her  she  produced  a  certain 
afeastfor  very  potent  sleeping-potion  which  was  altogether  without 
taste.  This  potion  she  herself  infused  into  a  certain  noble 
wine,  and  the  wine  she  poured  into  a  golden  chalice  of  extraordinary 
beauty. 

So  when  that  feast  was  ended,  and  whiles  she  and  Merlin  sat  together, 
Vivien  said,  "  Master,  I  have  a  mind  to  do  thee  a  great  honor/'  And 
Merlin  said,  "What  is  it?"  "Thou  shalt  see,"  said  Vivien.  Therewith  \ 
she  smote  her  hands  together  and  there  immediately  came  a  young  page 
unto  where  they  were,  and  he  bare  that  chalice  of  wine  in  his  hand  and 
gave  it  unto  Vivien.  Then  Vivien  took  the  chalice  and  she  went  to  where 
Merlin  sat  and  kneeled  down  before  him  and  said,  "  Sir,  I  beseech  thee  to 
take  this  chalice  and  to  drink  the  wine  that  is  within  it.  For  as  that  wine 
is  both  very  noble  and  very  precious,  so  is  thy  wisdom  both  very  noble 
and  very  precious ;  and  as  the  wine  is  contained  within  a  chalice  of  price- 
less  cost,  so  is  thy  wisdom  contained  within  a  life  that  hath  been  beyond 
all  value  to  the  world."  Therewith  she  set  her  lips  to  the  chalice  and 
kissed  the  wine  that  was  in  it. 

Then  Merlin  suspected  no  evil,  but  he  took  the  chalice  and  quaffed  of 
the  wine  with  great  cheerfulness. 

After  that,  in  a  little,  the  fumes  of  that  potent  draught  began  to  arise  into 

the  brains  of  Merlin  and  it  was  as  though  a  cloud  descended  upon  his  sight, 

and  when  this  came  upon  him  he  was  presentlv  aware  that  he 

Merlin  it  over-  .  .         .  ,  .  .     ,  .      . 

by  the  -wine  wa$  betrayed,  wherefore  he  cned  out  thrice  in  a  voice,  very 
bitter  and  full  of  agony,  "  Woe  !  Woe !  Woe  !  "     And  then  he 
cried  out,  "  I  am  betrayed  ! "     And  therewith   he  strove  to 
arise  from  where  he  sat  but  he  could  noL 

That  while  Vivien  sat  with  her  chin  upon  her  hands  and  regarded  him 
very  steadily,  smiling  strangely  upon  him.  So  presently  Merlin  ceased 
his  struggles  and  sank  into  a  sleep  so  deep  that  it  was  almost  as  though  he 
had  gone  dead.  And  when  that  had  happened  Vivien  arose  and  leaned 
over  him  and  set  a  very  powerful  spell  upon  him.  And  she  stretched  out 
her  forefinger  and  wove  an  enchantment  all  about  him  so  that  it  was  as 


VIVIEN  BETRAYS  MERLIN  177 

though  he  was  entirely  encompassed  with  a  silver  web  of  enchantment. 
And  when  she  had  ended,  Merlin  could  move  neither  hand  nor  foot  nor 
even  so  much  as  a  finger-tip,  but  was  altogether  like  some  great  insect 
that  a  cunning  and  beautiful  spider  had  enmeshed  in  a  net-work  of  fine, 
strong  web. 

Now,  when  the  next  morning  had  come,  Merlin  awoke  from  his  sleep 
and  he  beheld  that  Vivien  sat  over  against  him  regarding  him  very  nar- 
rowly. And  they  were  in  the  same  room  in  which  he  had  Vivien  bewitch- 
fallen  asleep.  And  when  Vivien  perceived  that  Merlin  was  "  Merlin. 
awake,  she  laughed  and  said,  "  Merlin,  how  is  it  with  thee  ?  "  And  Mer- 
lin groaned  with  great  passion,  saying,  "  Vivien,  thou  hast  betrayed 
me." 

At  this  Vivien  laughed  again  very  shrilly  and  piercingly,  and  she  said, 
"  Behold  !  Merlin,  thou  art  altogether  in  my  power ;  for  thou  art  utterly 
inwoven  in  those  enchantments  which  thou,  thyself,  hast  taught  me.  For 
lo  !  thou  canst  not  move  a  single  hair  without  my  will.  And  when  I 
leave  thee,  the  world  shall  see  thee  no  more  and  all  thy  wisdom  shall  be 
my  wisdom  and  all  thy  power  shall  be  my  power,  and  there  shall  be  no 
other  in  the  whole  world  who  shall  possess  the  wisdom  which  I  possess." 

Then  Merlin  groaned  with  such  fervor  that  it  was  as  though  his  heart 
would  burst  asunder.  And  he  said,  "  Vivien,  thou  hast  brought  me  to 
such  shame  that  even  were  I  released  from  this  spell  I  could  not  endure 
that  any  man  should  ever  see  my  face  again.  For  I  grieve  not  for  my  un- 
doings so  much  as  I  grieve  at  the  folly  that  hath  turned  mine  own  wisdom 
against  me  to  my  destruction.  So  I  forgive  thee  all  things  that  thou  hast 
done  to  me  to  betray  me ;  yet  there  is  one  thing  alone  which  I  crave  of 
thee." 

And  Vivien  said,  "Does  it  concern  thee?"  And  Merlin  said, "  No,  it 
concerns  another."  Thereupon  Vivien  said,  "  What  is  it?" 

Then  Merlin  said,  "  It  is  this :  Now  I  have  received  my  gift  of  foresight 
again,  and  I  perceive  that  King  Arthur  is  presently  in  great  peril  of  his 
life.     So  I  beseech  thee  Vivien  that  thou  wilt  straightway  go  Merlin  maketh 
to  where  he  is  in  danger,  and  that  thou  wilt  use  thy  powers  of  one  request  of 
sorcery  for  to  save  him.   Thus,  by  fulfilling  this  one  good  deed, 
thou  shalt  haply  lessen  the  sin  of  this  that  thou  hast  done  to  betray  me." 

Now  at  that  time  Vivien  was  not  altogether  bad  as  she  afterward  be- 
came, for  she  still  felt  some  small  pity  for  Merlin  and  some  small  rev- 
erence for  King  Arthur.  Wherefore  now  she  laughed  and  said,  "  Very 
well,  I  will  do  thy  desire  in  this  matter.  Whither  shall  I  go  to  save 
that  King?" 


178  THE   STORY  OF  MERLIN 

Then  Merlin  replied,  "  Go  into  the  West  country  and  unto  the  castle  of 
a  certain  knight  hight  Sir  Domas  de  Noir,  and  when  thou  comest  there 
then  thou  shalt  immediately  see  how  thou  mayst  be  of  aid  to  the  good 
King."  Upon  this  Vivien  said,  "  I  will  do  this  thing  for  thee,  for  it  is  the 
last  favor  that  anyone  may  ever  render  unto  thee  in  this  world." 

Therewith  Vivien  smote  her  hands  together  and  summoned  many  of  her 
attendants.  And  when  these  had  come  in  she  presented  Merlin  before  them, 
and  she  said,  "  Behold  how  I  have  bewitched  him.  Go !  See  for  your- 
selves  !  Feel  of  his  hands  and  his  face  and  see  if  there  be  any  life  in  him." 
And  they  went  to 'Merlin  and  felt  of  him  ;  his  hands  and  arms  and  his  face, 
and  even  they  plucked  at  his  beard,  and  Merlin  could  not  move  in  any  wise 
but  only  groan  with  great  dolor.  So  they  all  laughed  and  made  them 
merry  at  his  woful  state. 

Then  Vivien  caused  it  by  means  of  her  magic  that  there  should  be  in 
that  place  a  great  coffer  of  stone.  And  she  commanded  those  who  were 
,,.  .  .  there  that  they  should  lift  Merlin  up  and  lay  him  therein  an< 

Vivien  places  J  J 

Merlin  beneath    they  did  as  she  commanded.     Then  she  caused   it  that,  b] 
the  stone.  means  of  her  magic,  there  should  be  placed  a  huge  slab  ol 

stone  upon  that  coffer  such  as  ten  men  could  hardly  lift,  and  Merlin 
beneath  that  stone  like  one  who  was  dead. 

Then  Vivien  caused  it  to  be  that  the  magic  castle  should  instantly  dij 
appear  and  so  it  befell  as  she  willed.  Then  she  caused  it  that  a  mist  shoulc 
arise  at  that  place,  and  the  mist  was  of  such  a  sort  that  no  one  could  pen- 
etrate into  it,  or  sever  it  asunder,  nor  could  any  human  eye  see  what 
within.     Then,  when  she  had  done  all  this,  she  went  her  way  with  all  ol 
her  Court  from  that  valley,  making  great  joy  in  that  she  had  triumphe< 
over  Merlin. 

Nevertheless  she  did  not  forget  her  promise,  but  went  to  the  castle  ol 
Sir  Domas  de  Noir,  and  after  a  while  it  shall  all  be  told  how  it  befell- al 
that  place. 

Such  was  the  passing  of  Merlin,  and  God  grant  it  that  you  may  not 
misuse  the  wisdom  He  giveth  you  to  have,  that  it  may  be  turned  against 
you  to  your  undoing.  For  there  can  be  no  greater  bitterness  in  the  worl< 
than  this :  That  a  man  shall  be  betrayed  by  one  to  whom  he  himself  hat) 
given  the  power  of  betraying  him. 

And  now  turn  we  unto  King  Arthur  to  learn  how  it  fell  with  him  after 
Merlin  had  thus  been  betrayed  to  his  undoing. 


uem  Morgana  It  Fay. 


Chapter  Third. 


How  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  Returned  to  Came  lot  and  to  the 
Court  With  Intent  to  Do  III  to  King  Arthur.  Also  How 
King  Arthur  and  Others  Went  a-Hunting  and  of  What 
Befell  Thereby. 

NOW,  after  Merlin   had  quitted   the  Court  with  Vivien  in  that 
manner  aforetold,  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  returned  again  to 
Camelot.     There  she  came  unto  King  Arthur  and  kneeled  before 
him,  bowing  her  face,  with  an  appearance  of  great  humility.     And  she 
said,  "  Brother,  I  have  meditated  much  upon  these   matters  that  have 
passed  and  I  perceive  that  I  have  done  very  ill  to  talk  against  thee  as 
I  have  done,  and  to  be  so  rebellious  against  thy  royalty.     Wherefore  I 
crave  of  thee  to  forgive  me  my  evil  words  and  thoughts  against  thee." 

Then  King  Arthur  was  very  much  moved  and  he  came  to  Queen  Mor- 
gana and  took  her  by  the  hand  and  lifted  her  up  upon  her  feet 

11-111  11  •  -\r  T  i  Queen  Morgana 

and  kissed  her  brow,  and  her  eyes,  saying,  "My  sister,  I  have  ie  Fay  and  King 

no  ill-will  against  thee,  but  nothing  but  love  for  thee  in  my 

heart."    And  so,  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  abode  at  the  Court 

in  the  same  manner  as  she  had  aforetime  done,  for  King  Arthur  believed 

that  they  were  reconciled. 

Now  one  day,  Queen  Morgana  and  the  King  fell  into  a  friendly  talk 
concerning  Excalibur,  and  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  expressed  a  very  great 
desire  to  see  that  noble  weapon  more  .closely  than  she  had  yet  done,  and 
King  Arthur  said  he  would  sometime  show  it  to  her.  So  the  next  day  he 
said,  "  Sister,  come  with  me  and  I  will  show  thee  Excalibur."  Therewith 
he  took  Queen  Morgana  by  the  hand  and  led  her  into  another  apartment 
where  was  a  strong  wooden  coffer  bound  with  bands  of  iron.  Then  the 
King  opened  the  coffer  and  therein  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  beheld 
Excalibur  where  he  lay  in  his  sheath.  Then  King  Arthur  said  to  her, 


x82  THE   STORY  OF  MERLIN 

"  Lady,   take   this   sword   and   examine   it   as  you   please."      Therewith 

Queen   Morgana  took  Excalibur  into  her  hands  and  lifted    him   out  of 

the   coffer.      And   she   drew   the   sword   out   of    the   sheath 

*£u,efhExcai-   and,   lo !  the   blade   flashed   like   lightning.     Then   she   said, 

ibur  to  Queen     « Sjr>   this   is  a   very   beautiful   sword   and   I    would   that   I 

might  take  it  hence  and  keep  it  for  a  little  so  that  I  might 

enjoy  it  in  full  measure." 

Now  King  Arthur  was  of  a  mind  to  show  the  Queen  great  courtesy  at 
this  time  of  their  reconciliation,  wherefore  he  said  to  her,  "  Take  it,  and  be 
thou  its  keeper  for  as  long  as  thou  wilt."  So  Queen  Morgana  took  Excal- 
ibur and  his  sheath  and  bare  them  away  with  her  to  her  inn,  and  she  hid 
the  sword  in  the  bed  in  which  she  slept. 

Then  Queen  Morgana  sent  for  sundry  goldsmiths,  eight  in  number,  and 
for  certain  armorsmiths,  eight  in  number,  and  for  certain  cunning  jewellers, 
eight  in  number,  and  she  said  unto  them,  "  Make  me  a  sword  in  every  par- 
ticular like  this  sword  that  I  have  here."  And  thereupon  she  showed 
then  Excalibur  in  his  sheath.  So  these  goldsmiths  and  armorsmiths  and 
lapidaries  labored  with  great  diligence,  and  in  a  fortnight  they  had  made 
a  sword  so  exactly  like  Excalibur  that  no  eye  could  have  told  the  differ- 
ence betwixt  the  one  and  the  other.  And  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  kept 
both  swords  by  her  until  her  purposes  should  have  been  fulfilled. 

It  befell  upon  a  certain  day  that  King  Arthur  proclaimed  a  hunt,  and  he 
and  all  of  his  Court  were  party  thereunto. 

Now  the  day  before  this  hunt  took  place  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  came 
to  King  Arthur  and  said,  "  Brother,  I  have  here  for  thee  a  very  beautiful 
and  noble  horse  which  I  intend  to  give  thee  as  a  gift  of  love."  Therewith 
she  called  aloud  and  there  came  two  grooms  bringing  a  horse  as  black  as 
jet  and  all  beset  with  trappings  and  harness  of  silver.  And  the  horse  was 
of  such  extraordinary  beauty  that  neither  King  Arthur  nor 

Queen  Morgana.  vj  i  »,  t     t  •         «      i  r 

le  Fay  giveth  a  anybody  who  was  with  him  had  ever  before  seen  its  like 
*°r  beauty*  So  a  wonderful  delight  possessed  the  King  at 
sight  of  the  horse  and  he  said,  "  Sister,  this  is  the  noblest  gift 
I  have  had  given  to  me  for  this  long  time."  "  Ha !  brother,"  quoth  Queen 
Morgana,  "  doth  that  horse  then  belike  thee  ?  "  "  Yea,"  said  King  Arthur, 
"  it  belikes  me  more  than  any  horse  that  I  ever  beheld  before."  "  Then," 
quoth  Queen  Morgana,  "  consider  it  as  a  gift  of  reconciliation  betwixt  thee 
and  me.  And  in  sign  of  that  reconciliation  I  beg  of  thee  that  thou  wilt 
ride  that  horse  forth  upon  the  hunt  to-morrow  day."  And  King  Arthur 
said,  "  I  will  do  so." 


KING  ARTHUR  RIDES  A-HUNTING  183 

So  the  next  day  he  rode  forth  to  the  hunt  upon  that  horse  as  he  said  that 
he  would  do. 

Now  it  happened  some  time  after  noon  that  the  hounds  started  a  hart  of 
extraordinary  size,  and  the  King  and  all  of  his  Court  followed  the  chase 
with  great  eagerness.  But  the  horse  of  King  Arthur  soon  out- 

i       11  i  .  1-1  r  King  Arthur 

stripped  all  the  other  horses  saving  only  that  of  a   certain    rideth  a-hunt- 
very    honorable  and  worthy   knight   of  the  Court  hight  Sir    ™s' 
Accalon  of  Gaul.     So  Sir  Accalon  and  the   King  rode  at  a  great  pace 
through  the  forest,  and  they  were  so  eager  with  the  chase  that  they  wist 
not  whither  they  were  riding.      And  at  last  they  overtook  the  hart  and 
found  that  it  was  embushed  in  a  certain  very  thick  and  tangled  part  of 
the  forest,  and  there  King  Arthur  slew  the  stag,  and  so  the  chase  was 
ended. 

Now  after  this  had  come  to  pass,  the  King  and  Sir  Accalon  would  have 
retraced  their  way  whither  they  had  come,  but  in  a  little  they  perceived 
that  they  were  lost  in  the  mazes  of  the  woodland  and  wist  not  where  they 
were.  For  they  had  followed  the  chase  so  far  that  they  were  in  an  alto- 
gether strange  country.  So  they  wandered  hither  and  thither 
at  great  length  until  eventide,  at  which  time  they  were  op- 
pressed  with  hunger  and  weariness.  Then  King  Arthur  said  of  Carfare  lost 
to  Sir  Accalon,  "  Messire,  meseems  we  shall  have  nowhere 
to  rest  ourselves  to-night  unless  it  be  beneath  a  tree  in  this  forest." 

To  this  Sir  Accalon  made  reply,  "  Lord,  if  thou  wilt  follow  my  counsel 
thou  wilt  let  our  horses  seek  their  own  way  through  this  wilderness,  so, 
haply,  because  of  the  instinct  of  such  creatures,  they  shall  bring  us  unto 
some  place  of  habitation." 

Now  this  advice  appeared  to  be  very  good  to  King  Arthur,  wherefore 
he  did  as  Sir  Accalon  advised  and  let  loose  his  bridle-rein  and  allowed  his 
horse  to  travel  as  it  listed.  So  King  Arthur's  horse  went  along  a  certain 
path,  and  Sir  Accalon  followed  after  the  King.  And  they  went  a  great 
pass  in  this  wise,  and  the  night  was  descending  upon  them  in  the 
forest. 

But,  before  it  was  entirely  dark,  they  emerged  out  of  that  forest  and 
into  an  open  place  where  they  beheld  before  them  a  very  wide  estuary,  as 
it  were  an  inlet  of  the  sea.  And  before  them  was  a  beach  of  sand,  very 
smooth,  and  white,  and  they  two  went  down  to  that  beach  and  stood  upon 
the  shore,  and  they  wist  not  what  to  do,  for  there  was  no  habitation  in 
sight  in  any  direction. 

Now,  whiles  they  stood  there  a-doubt,  they  suddenly  perceived  a  ship 
at  a  very  great  distance  away.  And  this  ship  approached  where  they 


1 84  THE   STORY  OF  MERLIN 

were,  sailing  very  rapidly.  As  the  ship  drew  nigh  to  that  place  they 
perceived  that  it  was  of  a  very  strange  and  wonderful  appearance,  for  it 
King  Arthur  was  Pa^nte<^  *n  m^ny  divers  colors,  very  gaudy  and  brilliant, 
and  Sir  Accaion  and  the  sails  were  all  of  cloth  of  silk,  woven  in  divers  colors 
s*eh.«™nderful  and  embroidered  with  figures  like  to  the  figures  of  a  tapestry  ; 
and  King  Arthur  was  very  greatly  amazed  at  the  appearance 
of  that  ship. 

Now,  as  they  stood  so  watching  the  ship,  they  perceived  that  it  drew 
nigher  and  nigher  to  that  place  where  they  were,  and  in  a  little  it  beached 
itself  upon  the  shore  of  sand  not  very  far  away  from  them. 

Then  King  Arthur  said  to  Sir  Accaion,  "  Sir,  let  us  go  forward  to  the 
shore  where  we  may  look  into  this  ship,  for  never  did  I  see  its  like  before 
in  all  of  my  life,  wherefore  I  have  a  thought  that  maybe  it  is  fay." 

So  they  two  went  to  where  the  ship  was  and  they  stood  upon  the  shore 
and  looked  down  into  it,  and  at  first  they  thought  that  there  was  no  one 
upon  board  of  the  ship,  for  it  appeared  to  be  altogether  deserted.  But  as 
they  stood  there  marvelling  at  the  wonderfulness  of  that  ship  and  at  the 
manner  in  which  it  had  come  thither,  they  beheld,  of  a  sudden,  that  certain 
curtains  that  hung  before  an  apartment  at  the  farther  extremity  of  the 
ship  were  parted  asunder  and  there  came  forth  from  that  place  twelve 
very  beautiful  damsels.  Each  of  these  was  clad  in  a  rich  garment  of  scar- 
let satin  very  bright  and  shining,  and  each  wore  around  her  head  a  circlet 
of  gold,  and  each  had  many  bracelets  of  gold  upon  her  arms.  These  dam- 
sels came  forward  unto  where  the  two  knights  were  and  they  said,  "  Wel- 
come, King  Arthur ! "  And  they  said,  "  Welcome,  Sir  Accaion  !  " 

At  this  King  Arthur  was  very  much  astonished  that  they  should  know 
him,  and  he  said,  "  Fair  ladies,  how  is  this?  Ye  appear  to  know  me  very 
well,  but  I  know  ye  not.  Who  are  ye  that  know  me  and  my  companion 
and  call  us  by  name  ?  " 

Unto  this  the  chiefest  of  those  damsels  made  reply,  "  Sir,  we  are  part  fay 
and  we  know  all  about  you  ;  and  we  know  how  that  ye  have  been  follow- 
ing a  very  long  chase ;  and  we  know  that  ye  are  aweary,  anhungered,  and 
athirst.  Wherefore  we  beseech  ye  that  ye  come  aboard  of  this  ship  and 
rest  and  refresh  yourselves  with  food  and  drink." 

Now,  this  appeared  to  King  Arthur  to  be  a  very  bel-adventure,  where- 
fore he  said  to  Sir  Accaion,  "Messire,  I  have  a  great  mind  for  to  go- 
aboard  this  ship  and  to  follow  out  this  adventure."  And  Sir  Accaion  said, 
"  Lord,  if  thou  goest,  I  will  go  also." 

So  those  ladies  let  fall  a  gangplank  from  the  ship  and  King  Arthur  and 
Sir  Accaion  drave  their  horses  up  the  gangplank  and  aboard  the  ship,  and 


KING  ARTHUR  ENTERS   THE  FAIRY  SHIP  185 

immediately  they  did  so,  the  ship  withdrew  itself  from  the  sands  and 
sailed  away  as  it  had  come  —  very  swiftly  —  and  it  was  now  the  early  night- 
time with  the  moon  very  round  and  full  in  the  sky  like  to  a 
disk  of  pure  shining  silver. 


Then  those  twelve  damoiselles  aided  King-  Arthur  and  Sir  enter  the  ship  of 
Accalon  to  dismount  ;  and  some  took  their  horses  away  and 
others  led  them  into  a  fair  chamber  at  the  end  of  the  ship.  And  in  this 
chamber  King  Arthur  beheld  that  a  table  had  been  placed  as  though  for 
their  entertainment,  spread  with  a  linen  cloth  and  set  with  divers  savory 
meats,  and  with  manchets  of  white  bread  and  with  several  different  sorts 
of  excellent  wines.  And  at  the  sight  King  Arthur  and  Sir  Accalon  were 
very  much  rejoiced,  for  they  were  very  greatly  anhungered. 

So  they  immediately  sat  themselves  down  at  that  table  and  they  ate 
and  drank  with  great  heartiness,  and  whiles  they  did  so  some  of  those 
damsels  served  them  with  food,  and  others  held  them  in  pleasant  dis- 
course, and  others  made  music  upon  lutes  and  citterns  for  their  enter- 
tainment. So  they  feasted  and  made  very  merry. 

But,  after  a  while,  a  very  great  drowsiness  of  sleep  began  to  descend 
upon  King  Arthur;  albeit,  he  deemed  that  that  drowsiness  had  come  upon 
him  because  of  the  weariness  of  the  chase.  So  presently  he  said,  "  Fair 
damsels,  ye  have  refreshed  us  a  very  great  deal  and  this  hath  been  a  very 
pleasant  adventure.  But  I  would  now  that  ye  had  a  place  for  us  to  sleep." 

Unto  this  the  chiefest  of  the  damsels  replied,  "  Lord,  this  boat  hath 
been  prepared  for  your  refreshment,  wherefore  all  things  have  been  made 
ready  for  you  with  entire  fulness." 

Therewith  some  of  those  twelve  damsels  conducted  King  Arthur  into  a 
sleeping-chamber  that  had  been  prepared  for  him,  and  others  led  Sir 
Accalon  into  another  chamber  prepared  for  him.  And  King  Arthur  mar- 
velled at  the  beauty  of  his  chamber,  for  he  thought  that  he  had  never 
beheld  a  more  excellently  bedight  bed-chamber  than  that  one  into  which 
he  had  now  entered.  So  King  Arthur  laid  himself  down  with  much 
comfort  to  his  body,  and  straightway  he  fell  into  a  deep  and  gentle  sleep, 
without  dream  or  disturbance  of  any  sort. 

Now  when  King  Arthur  awoke  from  that  sleep,  he  was  astonished 
beyond  all  measure  so  that  he  wist  not  whether  he  was  still 

i  T^  u      King  Arthur 

asleep  and  dreaming,  or  whether  he  was  awake.     For,  lo  !  he  jindeth  himself 
lay  upon  a  pallet  in  a  very  dark  and  dismal  chamber  all  of  inr?sodn'adful 
stone.     And  he  perceived  that  this  chamber  was  a  dungeon, 
and  all  about  him  he  heard  the  sound  of  many  voices  in  woful  complaint. 


T86  THE   STORY  OF  MERLIN 

Then  King  Arthur  said  to  himself,  "  Where  is  that  ship  in  which  I  was 
last  night,  and  what  hath  become  of  those  ladies  with  whom  I  spake?" 

Upon  this  he  looked  about  him  and,  behold  !  he  saw  that  he  was  indeed 
in  a  dungeon  and  that  there  were  many  knights  in  very  sad  estate  all 
about  him.  Wherefore  he  perceived  that  they  also  were  captives  and  that 
it  was  they  who  had  made  that  sound  of  woful  lamentation  which  he  had 
heard  when  awaking. 

Then  King  Arthur  aroused  himself  from  where  he  lay  and  he  saw  that 
all  those  knights  who  were  prisoners  there  were  strangers  unto  him,  and 
he  knew  not  them  and  they  knew  not  him.  And  of  these  knights  there 
were  two  and  twenty  who  were  prisoners  in  that  place. 

Then  King  Arthur  said,  "  Messires,  who  are  you  and  where  am  I  at  these 
present?"  To  the  which  the  chiefest  of  those  knights  who  were  prisoners 
made  reply,  "Sir,  we  are,  like  yourself,  prisoners  in  a  dungeon  of  this 
castle,  and  the  castle  belongs  to  a  certain  knight,  hight  Sir  Domas,  sur- 
named  le  Noir." 

Then  King  Arthur  made  great  marvel  at  what  had  befallen  him,  where- 
fore he  said,  "  Messires,  here  is  a  very  singular  thing  hath  happened  to 
me,  for  last  night  I  was  asleep  in  a  very  wonderful  ship  that  I  believe 
was  fay,  and  with  me  was  a  knight-companion,  and,  lo !  this  morning  I 
awake  alone  in  this  dungeon,  and  know  not  how  I  came  hither." 

"  Sir,"  said  the  knight  who  spake  for  the  others,  "  thou  wert  last  night 
brought  hither  by  two  men  clad  in  black,  and  thou  wert  laid  down  upon 
yonder  pallet  without  awaking,  wherefore  it  is  very  plain  to  me  that  thou 
art  in  the  same  case  that  we  are  in,  and  that  thou  art  a  prisoner  unto  this 
Sir  Domas  le  Noir." 

Then  King  Arthur  said,  "  Tell  me,  who  is  this  Sir  Domas,  for  I  declare 
that  I  never  before  heard  of  him."  "  I  will  tell  you,"  said  the  captive 
knight,  and  therewith  he  did  so  as  follows : 

"  I  believe,"  said  he,  "  that  this  Sir  Domas  is  the  falsest  knight  that  liveth, 
for  he  is  full  of  treason  and  leasing,  and  is  altogether  a  coward  in  his 
heart.  Yet  he  is  a  man  of  very  great  estate  and  very  powerful  in  these 
parts. 

"  Now  there  are  two  brothers,  and  Sir  Domas  is  one  and  the  other  is 
hight  Sir  Ontzlake,  and  Sir  Domas  is  the  elder  and  Sir  Ontzlake  is  the 
The  knight-  younger.  When  the  father  of  these  two  knights  died,  he  left 
prisoner  telieth  the  one  an  equal  patrimony  with  the  other.  But  now  it  hath 
concerning™  come  about  that  Sir  Domas  hath  nearly  all  of  those  estates 
Sir  Domas.  an(j  that  sir  Ontzlake  hath  only  one  castle,  which  same  he 
now  holdeth  by  the  force  of  arms  and  because  of  his  own  courage.  For, 


OF  SIR  DOMAS  LE  NOIR  187 

though  Sir  Domas  is  altogether  a  coward  in  his  heart,  yet  he  hath  cun- 
ning and  guile  beyond  any  man  of  whom  I  ever  heard  tell ;  wherefore  it 
hath  so  come  about  that  of  his  father's  patrimony  Sir  Domas  hath  every- 
thing  and  Sir  Ontzlake  hath  nothing  saving  only  that  one  castle  and 
the  estate  thereunto  appertaining. 

"  Now  it  would  appear  to  be  very  strange  that  Sir  Domas  is  not  satisfied 
with  all  this,  yet  he  is  not  satisfied,  but  he  covets  that  one  castle  and  that 
small  estate  that  is  his  brother's,  so  that  he  can  hardly  have  any  pleasure 
in  life  because  of  his  covetousness.  Yet  he  knoweth  not  how  to  obtain 
that  estate  from  his  brother,  for  Sir  Ontzlake  is  a  very  excellent  knight, 
and  the  only  way  that  Sir  Domas  can  lay  hands  upon  that  estate  is  by  hav- 
ing to  do  with  his  brother  as  man  to  man  in  a  contest  at  arms,  and  this  he 
is  afraid  to  attempt. 

"  So,  for  a  long  time,  Sir  Domas  hath  been  in  search  of  a  knight  who 
may  take  up  his  case  for  him,  and  do  battle  against  Sir  Ontzlake  in  his 
behalf.  Wherefore  all  the  knights  whom  he  can  arrest  he  bringeth  to  this 
castle  and  giveth  them  their  choice,  either  to  take  up  his  case  against  his 
brother,  or  else  to  remain  in  this  place  as  his  prisoner  without  ransom.  So 
he  hath  arrested  all  of  us,  and  hath  made  demand  of  each  that  he  should 
do  battle  in  his  behalf.  But  not  one  of  us  will  take  up  the  case  of  such 
an  evil-conditioned  knight  as  Sir  Domas,  so  we  all  remain  his  prison- 
ers." 

"  Well,"  quoth  King  Arthur,  "  this  is  a  very  wonderful  case.  But  me- 
thinks  that  if  Sir  Domas  maketh  his  appeal  to  me,  I  will  take  up  his  case. 
For  I  would  rather  do  that  than  remain  a  prisoner  here  for  all  my  life.  But 
if  I  should  take  upon  me  this  battle  and  be  successful  therein,  then  I  will 
afterward  have  to  do  with  Sir  Domas  himself  in  such  a  manner  as  I  do  not 
believe  would  be  very  much  to  his  liking." 

Now  a  little  while  after  this  the  door  of  that  prison-house  was  opened 
by  the  porter,  and  there  entered  a  very  fair  young  damsel.     And  this 
damsel  came  to  King  Arthur  and  she  said  to  him,  "  What    A  damsel 
cheer  ?  "     "I  cannot  tell,"  quoth  King  Arthur,  "  but  meseems    eometh  to 
I  am  in  a  very  sorry   pass  in  this  place."     "  Sir,"  said  the 
damsel,  "  I  am  grieved  to  see  so  noble-appearing  a  knight  in  so  dolorous  a 
case.     But  if  you  will  undertake  to  defend  the  cause  of  the  lord  of  this 
castle  with  your  person  against  his  enemy,  then  you  shall  have  Arthur 

leave  to  go  whithersoever  you  please."     To  this  King  Arthur     consents  to 
made  reply,  "  Lady,  this  is  a  very  hard  case,  that  either  I  must     %%££ 
fight  a  battle  I  care  not  for,  or  else  remain  a  prisoner  here 
without  ransom  for  all  of  my  days.     But  I  would   liever  fight  than  live 


1  88  THE   STORY  OF  MERLIN 

here  all  my  life,  and  so  I  will  undertake  that  adventure  as  thou  wouldst 
have  me  do.  But  if  I  do  battle  for  the  lord  of  this  castle,  and  if  I  should 
have  Grace  of  Heaven  to  win  that  battle,  then  it  must  be  that  all  these, 
my  companions  in  imprisonment,  shall  also  go  forth  with  me  into  free- 
dom." 

To  this  the  damsel  said,  "Very  well,  be  it  so,  for  that  shall  content  the 
master  of  this  castle." 

Then  King  Arthur  looked  more  closely  at  the  maiden,  and  he  said, 
"  Damsel,  meseems  I  should  know  thy  face,  for  I  think  I  have  seen  thee 
somewhere  before  this."  "  Nay,  sir,"  said  she,  "  that  can  hardly  be,  for  I 
am  the  daughter  of  the  lord  of  this  castle." 

But  in  this  she  was  false,  for  she  was  one  of  the  damsels  of  Morgana 
le  Fay  ;  and  she  was  one  of  those  who  had  beguiled  King  Arthur 
into  the  ship  the  night  before  ;  and  it  was  she  who  had  brought  him 
to  that  castle  and  had  delivered  him  into  the  hands  of  Sir  Domas.  And 
all  these  things  she  had  done  upon  command  of  Queen  Morgana  le 
Fay. 

Then  King  Arthur  said,  "  But  if  I  do  this  battle,  thou  must  carry  a  mes- 
sage for  me  unto  the  Court  of  King  Arthur,  and  that  message  must  be 
delivered  unto  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  into  her  own  hands.  Then,  when 
that  is  done,  I  will  do  this  battle  for  the  cause  of  Sir  Domas."  And  the 
damsel  said,  "  It  shall  be  done  so." 

So  King  Arthur  wrote  a  sealed  letter  to  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  that  she 
should  send  to  him  his  sword  Excalibur;  and  he  sent  that 

Queen  Morgana  .  .       .         .  ._  _  _  .11 

sendeth  a  message  to  her.     And  when   Queen  Morgana  received  that 


letter  she  laugned  and  said,  "Very  well,  he  shall  have  a  sword 
that  shall  please  his  eye  as  well  as  Excalibur."  And  there- 
with she  sent  him  that  other  sword  that  she  had  had  made  exactly  like 
Excalibur. 

So  Sir  Domas  sent  word  unto  his  brother  Sir  Ontzlake,  that  he  had  now* 
a  champion  for  to  do  battle  in  his  behalf  to  recover  all  that  portion  of  their 
patrimony  which  Sir  Ontzlake  still  withheld  from  him. 

Now  when  Sir  Ontzlake  received  this  message  he  was  thrown  into  great 
trouble  of  spirit,  for  a  little  while  before  he  had  been  very  sorely  wounded 
in  a  tournament  in  the  which  a  spear  had  been  thrust  through  both  his 
thighs,  so  that  he  was  then  abed  with  that  wound  and  without  power  to 
arise  therefrom.  Wherefore  he  wist  not  what  to  do  in  this  case,  for  he 
could  not  do  battle  upon  his  own  behalf,  and  he  had  no  one  to  do  battle 
for  him. 


menMorgana 


Chapter  Fourth. 


What  Befell  Sir  Accalon,  and  How  King  Arthur  Fought  an  Affair- 
at- Arms  With  Swords,  and  How  He  Came  Nigh  to  Losing  His 
Life  Thereby. 

HERE  followeth  the  account  of  what  happened  unto  Sir  Accalon 
the  morning  after  he  went  aboard  that  magic  ship  with  King 
Arthur  as  aforetold. 

Now  when  Sir  Accalon  awoke  from  that  same  sleep  it  was  with  him  as 
it  had  been  with  King  Arthur ;  for,  at  first,  he  wist  not  whether  he  was 
still  asleep  and  dreaming  or  whether  he   was  awake.     For, 
lo  !  he  found  himself  to  be  lying  beside  a  marble  basin  of  clear  fndetk himself 
water  that  gushed  up  very  high  from  a  silver  tube.     And  he    beside  a  foun- 
perceived  that  not  far  from  this  fountain  was  a  large  pavilion 
of  parti-colored  silk  which  stood  upon  the  borders  of  a  fair  meadow  of 
grass. 

So  Sir  Accalon  was  altogether  astonished  to  find  himself  in  this  place 
when  he  had  fallen  asleep  on  board  that  ship,  wherefore  he  was  afraid  that 
all  this  was  the  fruit  of  some  very  evil  spell.  So  he  crossed  himself  and 
said,  "  God  save  King  Arthur  from  any  harm,  for  it  seems  to  me  that 
those  damsels  upon  that  ship  have  wrought  some  magic  upon  us  for  to 
separate  us  the  one  from  the  other."  So  saying,  he  arose  from  where  he 
lay  with  intent  to  inquire  further  into  that  matter. 

Now,  as  he  made  some  noise  in  bestirring  himself,  there  came  forth  from 
that  pavilion  aforementioned  a  very  hideous  dwarf,  who  saluted  him  with 
all  civility  and  with  high  respect.  Then  Sir  Accalon  said  to  the  dwarf, 
"  Sirrah,  who  are  you?"  Unto  which  the  dwarf  made  answer,  "  Messire, 
I  belong  unto  the  lady  of  yonder  pavilion,  and  she  hath  sent  me  to  bid 
you  welcome  to  this  place,  and  to  invite  you  in  for  to  partake  of  a  repast 
with  her."  "  Ha  !  "  quoth  Sir  Accalon,  "  and  how  was  it  I  came  hither?  " 


IQ2  THE   STORY  OF  MERLIN 

"  Sir,"  said  the  dwarf,  "  I  do  not  know,  but  when  we  looked  forth  this 
morning  we  saw  you  lying  here  by  the  fountain  side." 

Then  Sir  Accalon  made  great  marvel  at  that  which  had  happened  to 
him,  and  by  and  by  he  said,  "  Who  is  thy  lady?"  To  which  the  dwarf 
replied,  "  She  is  hight  the  Lady  Gomyne  of  the  Fair  Hair,  and  she  will  be 
passingly  glad  of  your  company  in  her  pavilion." 

Upon  this  Sir  Accalon  arose,  and,  having  laved  himself  at  the  fountain 

and   so  refreshed  himself,  he   went  with  the  dwarf  unto  the 

fntt?sCttnpavil-  pavilion  of  that  lady.     And  when  he  had  come  there  he  saw 

ion  of  the  Lady  that  in  the  centre  of  the  pavilion  was  a  table  of  silver  spread 

Gomyne.  ^.^  ^  fair  wn'te  clotn  ancj  covered  with  very  excellent  food 

for  a  man  to  break  his  fast  withal. 

Now  immediately  Sir  Accalon  came  into  the  pavilion,  the  curtains  upon 
the  further  side  thereof  were  parted  and  there  entered  from  a  further 
chamber  a  very  beautiful  lady  and  gave  Sir  Accalon  welcome  to  that 
place.  And  Sir  Accalon  said  to  her,  "  Lady,  methinks  thou  art  very  civil 
to  invite  me  thus  into  thy  pavilion."  "  Nay,  sir,"  said  the  lady,  "  it  took 
no  great  effort  to  be  civil  unto  a  knight  so  worthy  as  thou."  Then  she 
said  to  Sir  Accalon,  "  Sir,  wilt  thou  sit  here  at  the  table  with  me  and 
break  thy  fast  ?  " 

At  this  Sir  Accalon  was  very  glad,  for  he  was  anhungered,  and  the 
beauty  of  the  lady  pleased  him  a  very  great  deal,  wherefore  it  afforded  him 
great  joy  for  to  be  in  her  company. 

So  they  two  sat  at  the  table  with  a  very  cheerful  and  pleasant  spirit  and 
the  dwarf  waited  upon  them. 

Now  after  Sir  Accalon  and  the  Lady  of  the  Pavilion  had  broken  their 
fasts  she  spake  to  him  in  this  wise,  "  Sir  knight,  thou  appearest  to  be  a  very 
strong  and  worthy  lord  and  one  very  well  used  to  feats  of  arms  and 
to  prowess  in  battle." 

To  this  Sir  Accalon  made  reply,  "  Lady,  it  does  not  beseem  me  to  be- 
speak of  my  own  worth,  but  this  much  I  may  freely  say ;  I  have  engaged 
in  several  affrays  at  arms  in  such  measure  as  a  knight  with  belt  and  spurs 
may  do,  and  I  believe  that  both  my  friends  and  mine  enemies  have  had 
reason  to  say  that  I  have  at  all  times  done  my  devoirs  to  the  best  of  my 
powers." 

Then  the  damoiselle  said,  "  I  believe  you  are  a  very  brave  and  worthy 
knight,  and  being  such  you  might  be  of  service  to  a  good  worthy  knight 
who  is  in  sad  need  of  such  service  as  one  knight  may  render  unto  another." 

To  this  Sir  Accalon  said,  "  What  is  that  service  ?"  And  the  damoiselle 
replied,  "  I  will  tell  thee :  There  is,  dwelling  not  far  from  this  place,  a 


ACCALON  FINDS  A    WONDERFUL   SWORD  193 

certain  knight  hight  Sir  Ontzlake,  who  hath  an  elder  brother  hight  Sir 
Domas.  This  Sir  Domas  hath  served  Sir  Ontzlake  very  ill  in  many  ways, 
and  hath  deprived  him  of  well  nigh  all  of  his  patrimony,  so  that  only  a  little 
is  left  to  Sir  Ontzlake  of  all  the  great  possessions  that  were  one  time  his 
father's.  But  even  such  a  small  holding  as  that  Sir  Domas  begrudges  Sir 
Ontzlake,  so  that  Sir  Ontzlake  must  needs  hold  what  he  hath  by  such 
force  of  arms  as  he  may  himself  maintain.  Now  Sir  Domas  hath  found 
himself  a  champion  who  is  a  man  of  a  great  deal  of  strength  and  prowess, 
and  through  this  champion  Sir  Domas  challenges  Sir  Ontzlake's  right  to 
hold  even  that  small  part  of  those  lands  which  were  one  time  his  father's ; 
wherefore  if  Sir  Ontzlake  would  retain  what  is  his  he  must  presently  do 
battle  therefore. 

"  Now  this  is  a  very  sad  case  for  Sir  Ontzlake,  for  a  short  time  since  he 
was  wounded  by  a  spear  at  a  tournament  and  was  pierced  through  both  of 
his  thighs,  wherefore  he  is  not  now  able  to  sit  upon  his  horse  and  to  defend 
his  rights  against  assault.  Wherefore  meseems  that  a  knight  could  have 
no  better  cause  to  show  his  prowess  than  in  the  defence  of  so  sad  a  case  as 
this." 

So  spake  that  lady,  and  to  all  she  said  Sir  Accalon  listened  with  great 
attention,  and  when  she  had  ended  he  said,  "Lady,  I  would  be  indeed  right 
willing  to  defend  Sir  Ontzlake's  right,  but,  lo  !  I  have  no  armor  nor  have 
I  any  arms  to  do  battle  withal." 

Then  that  damoiselle  smiled  very  kindly  upon  Sir  Accalon  and  she  said 
to  him,  "  Sir,  Sir  Ontzlake  may  easily  fit  thee  with  armor  that  shall  be 
altogether  to  thy  liking.  And  as  for  arms,  I  have  in  this  pavilion  a  sword 
that  hath  but  one  other  fellow  in  all  the  world." 

Upon  this  she  arose  and  went  back  into  that  curtained  recess  from  which 
she  had  come,  and  thence  she  presently  returned,  bringing  a  certain  thing 
wrapped  in  a  scarlet  cloth.  And  she  opened  the  cloth  before  Sir  Accalon's 
eyes,  and  lo !  that  which  she  had  there  was  King  Arthur's  sword  Excali- 
bur  in  his  sheath.  Then  the  damoiselle  said,  "  This  sword  shall  be  thine 
if  thou  wilt  assume  this  quarrel  upon  behalf  of  Sir  Ontzlake." 

Now  when  Sir  Accalon  beheld  that  sword  he  wist  not  what  to  think,  and 
he  said  to  himself,  "  Certes,  either  this  is  Excalibur  or  else  it  is  his  twin 
brother."     Therewith  he  drew  the  blade  from  out  of  its  shield 
and  it  shined  with  extraordinary  splendor.     Then  Sir  Acca-  Qomyne  shmaetk 
Ion  said,  "  1  know  not  what  to  think  for  pure  wonder,  for  this  J^jgjj^ 
sword  is  indeed  the  very  image  of  another  sword  I  wot  of." 
When  he  so  spake  that  damoiselle  smiled  upon  him  again,  and  she  said, 
"  I  have  heard  tell  that  there  is  in  the  world  another  sword  like  to  this." 


1 94  THE   STORY  OF  MERLIN 

Then  Sir  Accalon  said,  "  Lady,  to  win  this  sword  for  myself  I  would  be 
willing  to  fight  in  any  battle  whatsoever/'     And  the  damoiselle 
replied,  "Then  if  thou  wilt  fight  this  battle  for  Sir  Ontzlake 
battu  for  Sir      thou  art  free  to  keep  that  sword  for  thine  own,"  at  the  which 

Sir  Accalon  was  rejoiced  beyond  all  measure  of  gladness. 
So  it  came  about  that,  by  the  wiles  of  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay,  King 
Arthur  was  brought  to  fight  a  battle  unknowingly  with  a  knight  very 
much  beloved  by  him,  and  that  that  knight  had  Excalibur  to  use  against  his 
master.  For  all  these  things  had  come  to  pass  through  the  cunning  of 
Morgana  le  Fay. 

Now  a  fair  field  was  prepared  for  that  battle  in  such  a  place  as  was  con- 
venient both  to  Sir  Domas  and  to  Sir  Ontzlake,  and  thither  they  came 
upon  the  day  assigned,  each  with  his  knight-champion  and  his  attendants, 
Sir  Ontzlake  being  brought  thither  in  a  litter  because  of  the  sore  wound 
in  his  thighs.  Also  a  great  many  other  folk  came  to  behold  the  combat, 
for  the  news  thereof  had  gone  forth  to  a  great  distance  around  about  that 
place.  So,  all  being  in  readiness,  the  two  knights  that  were  to  do  battle 
in  that  field  were  brought  within  the  barriers  of  combat,  each  fully  armed 
and  each  mounted  upon  a  very  good  horse. 

Now  King  Arthur  was  clad  all  in  armor  of  Sir  Domas,  and  Sir  Accalon 
was  clad  in  armor  that  belonged  to  Sir  Ontzlake,  and  the  head  of  each  was 
covered  by  his  helmet  so  that  neither  of  those  two  knew  the  other. 

Then  the  herald  came  forth  and  announced  that  the  battle  was  toward, 
and  each  knight  immediately  put  himself  in  readiness  for  the  assault. 
Thereupon,  the  word  for  assault  being  given,  the  two  rushed  forth,  each 
from  his  station,  with  such  speed  and  fury  that  it  was  wonderful  to  behold. 
And  so  they  met  in  the  midst  of  the  course  with  a  roar  as  of  thunder,  and 
the  spear  of  each  knight  was  burst  all  into  small  pieces  unto  the  truncheon 
which  he  held  in  his  hand.  Upon  this  each  knight  voided  his  horse  with 
great  skill  and  address,  and  allowed  it  to  run  at  will  in  that  field.  And 
each  threw  aside  the  truncheon  of  his  spear  and  drew  his  sword,  and 
thereupon  came,  the  one  against  the  other,  with  the  utmost  fury  of  battle. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Vivien  came  to  that  place  upon  the  behest  of 
Merlin,  and  she  brought  with  her  such  a  Court  and  state  of  beauty  that  a 
Vivien  cometh.  £reat  many  people  took  notice  of  her  with  great  pleasure. 
to  the  field  of  So  Vivien  and  her  Court  took  stand  at  the  barriers  whence 
they  might  behold  all  that  was  toward.  And  Vivien  regarded 
those  two  knights  and  she  could  not  tell  which  was  King  Arthur  and 
which  was  his  enemy,  wherefore  sh*  said,  "  Well,  I  will  do  as  Merlin 


OF  THE  BATTLE    OF  ARTHUR  AND  ACCALON  195 

desired  me  to  do,  but  I  must  wait  and  see  this  battle  for  a  while  ere  I  shall 
be  able  to  tell  which  is  King  Arthur,  for  it  would  be  a  pity  to  cast  my 
spells  upon  the  wrong  knight." 

So  these  two  knights  came  together  in  battle  afoot,  and  first  they  foined 
and  then  they  both  struck  at  the  same  time  and,  lo !  the  sword  of  King 
Arthur  did  not  bite  into  the  armor  of  Sir  Accalon,  but  the  sword  of  Sir 
Accalon  bit  very  deeply  into  the  armor  of  King  Arthur  and  wounded  him 
so  sorely  that  the  blood  ran  down  in  great  quantities  into  his  armor.  And 
after  that  they  struck  very  often  and  very  powerfully,  and  as  it  was  at 
first  so  it  was  afterward,  for  the  sword  of  Sir  Accalon  ever  bit  into  the 
armor  of  King  Arthur,  and  the  sword  of  King  Arthur  bit  not  at  all  into 
his  enemy's  armor.  So  in  a  little  while  it  came  that  King  Arthur's  armor 
was  stained  all  over  red  with  the  blood  that  flowed  out  from  ~.  A  ., 

King  Arthur  is 

a  great  many  wounds,  and  Sir  Accalon  bled  not  at  all  because  sorely  wounded 
of  the  sheath  of  Excalibur  which  he  wore  at  his  side.     And  by '  Excalib»r- 
the  blood  of  King  Arthur  flowed  down  upon  the  ground  so  that  all  the 
grass  around  about  was  ensanguined  with   it.     So  when   King   Arthur 
beheld  how  all  the  ground  was  wet  with  his  own  blood,  and  how  his  enemy 
bled  not  at  all,  he  began  to  fear  that  he  would  die  in  that  battle  ;  wherefore 
he  said  to  himself,  "How  is  this?     Hath  the  virtue  departed  out  of  Ex- 
calibur and  his  sheath  ?     Were  it  not  otherwise  I  would  think  that  that 
sword  which  cutteth  me  so  sorely  is  Excalibur  and  that  this  sword  is  not 
Excalibur." 

Upon  this  a  great  despair  of  death  came  upon  him,  and  he  ran  at  Sir 
Accalon  and  smote  him  so  sore  a  blow  upon  the  helm  that  Sir  Accalon 
nigh  fell  down  upon  the  ground. 

But  at  that  blow  the  sword  of  King  Arthur  broke  short  off  at  the  cross 
of  the  handle  and  fell  into  the  grass  among  the  blood,  and  the  pommel 
thereof  and  the  cross  thereof  was  all  that  King  Arthur  held  in  his  hand. 

Now  at  that  blow  Sir  Accalon  waxed  very  mad,  so  he  ran  at  King 
Arthur  with  intent  to  strike  him  some  dolorous  blow.  But  when  he  saw 
that  King  Arthur  was  without  weapon,  he  paused  in  his  assault  and  he 
said,  "  Sir  Knight,  I  see  that  thou  art  without  weapon  and  that  thou  hast 
lost  a  great  deal  of  blood.  Wherefore  I  demand  thee  to  yield  thyself  unto 
me  as  recreant." 

Then  King  Arthur  was  again  very  much  a-dread  that  his  death  was  near 
to  him  ;  yet,  because  of  his  royalty,  it  was  not  possible  for  him  to  yield  to 
any  knight.  So  he  said,  "  Nay,  Sir  Knight,  I  may  not  yield  myself  unto  thee 
for  I  would  liever  die  with  honor  than  yield  myself  without  honor.  For 
though  I  lack  a  weapon,  there  are  peculiar  reasons  why  I  may  not  lack 


I96  THE   STORY  OF  MERLIN 

worship.  Wherefore  thou  mayst  slay  me  as  I  am  without  weapon  and 
that  will  be  thy  shame  and  not  my  shame." 

"  Well,"  said  Sir  Accalon,  "  as  for  the  shame  I  will  not  spare  thee  unless 
thou  dost  yield  to  me."  And  King  Arthur  said,  "I  will  not  yield  me." 
Thereupon  Sir  Accalon  said,  "  Then  stand  thou  away  from  me  so  that  I 
may  strike  thee."  And,  when  King  Arthur  had  done  as  Sir  Accalon  bade 
him,  Sir  Accalon  smote  him  such  a  woful  blow  that  the  King  fell  down 
upon  his  knees.  Then  Sir  Accalon  raised  Excalibur  with  intent  to  strike 
King  Arthur  again,  and  with  that  all  the  people  who  were  there  cried  out 
upon  him  to  spare  so  worshipful  a  knight.  But  Sir  Accalon  would  not 
spare  him. 

Then  Vivien  said  unto  herself,  "  Certes,  that  must  be  King  Arthur  who 
is  so  near  to  his  death,  and  I  do  make  my  vow  that  it  would  be  a  great  pity 
for  him  to  die  after  he  hath  fought  so  fiercely."  So  when  Sir  Accalon 
raised  his  sword  that  second  time  with  intent  to  strike  his  enemy,  Vivien 
smote  her  hands  with  great  force,  and  emitted  at  the  same  time  a  spell  of 
Vivien  ets  a  sucn  potency  that  it  appeared  to  Sir  Accalon  upon  the  instant 
spell  upon  Sir  as  though  he  had  received  some  very  powerful  blow  upon  his 
Accalon.  arm.  For  with  that  spell  his  arm  was  benumbed  all  from  the 

finger-tips  unto  the  hollow  of  his  armpit,  and  thereupon  Excalibur  fell  out 
of  Sir  Accalon's  hands  and  into  the  grass. 

Then  King  Arthur  beheld  the  sword  and  he  perceived  that  it  was  Ex- 
calibur and  therewith  he  knew  that  he  had  been  betrayed.  Wherefore  he 
cried  out  thrice,  in  a  very  loud  voice,  "  Treason  !  Treason !  Treason  !  "  and 
with  that  he  set  his  knee  upon  the  blade  and  before  Sir  Accalon  could  stay 
him  he  had  seized  it  into  his  hands. 

Then  it  appeared  to  King  Arthur  that  a  great  virtue  had  come  into  him 
because  of  that  sword.  Wherefore  he  arose  from  his  knees  and  ran  at  Sir 
Accalon  and  smote  him  so  sorely  that  the  blade  penetrated  his  armor  to 
the  depth  of  half  a  palm's  breadth.  And  he  smote  him  again  and  again 
and  Sir  Accalon  cried  out  in  a  loud  voice,  and  fell  down  upon  his  hands 
King  Arthur  anc^  knees.  Then  King  Arthur  ran  to  him  and  catched  the 
overcometh  sir  sheath  of  Excalibur  and  plucked  it  away  from  Sir  Accalon 
and  flung  it  away,  and  thereupon  the  wounds  of  Sir  Accalon 
burst  out  bleeding  in  great  measure.  Then  King  Arthur  catched  the 
helmet  of  Sir  Accalon  and  rushed  it  off  his  head  with  intent  to  slay 
him. 

Now  because  King  Arthur  was  blinded  with  his  own  blood  he  did  not 
know  Sir  Accalon,  wherefore  he  said,  "  Sir  Knight,  who  art  thou  who  hast 
betrayed  me  ?  "  And  Sir  Accalon  said,  "  I  have  not  betrayed  thee.  I  am 


VIVIEN  CURES  KING  ARTHUR'S    WOUNDS  197 

Sir  Accalon  of  Gaul  and  I  am  knight  in  good  worship  of  King  Arthur's 
Court." 

But  when  King  Arthur  heard  this  he  made  great  outcry  and  he  said, 
"  How  is  this?  Know  you  who  I  am?"  And  Sir  Accalon  said,  "Nay,  I 
know  you  not."  Then  King  Arthur  said,  "  I  arn  King  Arthur  who  am  thy 
master."  And  upon  this  he  took  off  his  helmet  and  Sir  Accalon  knew  him. 

And  when  Sir  Accalon  beheld  King  Arthur  he  swooned  away  and  lay 
like  one  dead  upon  the  ground,  and  King  Arthur  said,  "  Take  him  hence." 

Then  when  those  who  were  there  were  aware  who  King  Arthur  was, 
they  burst  over  the  barriers  and  ran  toward  him  with  great  outcry  of  pity. 
And  King  Arthur  would  have  left  this  place  but  upon  that  he  also  swooned 
away  because  of  the  great  issue  of  blood  that  had  come  from  him,  where- 
fore all  those  who  were  round  about  took  great  sorrow,  thinking  that  he 
was  dying,  wherefore  they  bewailed  themselves  without  stint. 

Then  came  Vivien  out  into  that  field  and  she  said,  "  Let  me  have  him, 
lor  I  believe  that  I  shall  be  able  to  cure  his  hurts."  So  she  commanded 
that  two  litters  should  be  brought  and  she  placed  King  Arthur  in  one  of 
the  litters  and  she  placed  Sir  Accalon  in  the  other,  and  she  bore  them 
both  away  to  a  priory  of  nuns  that  was  at  no  great  distance  from  that 
place. 

So  when  Vivien  had  come  there  she  searched  the  wounds  of  King 
Arthur  and  bathed  them  with  a  very  precious  balsam,  so  that  they  imme- 
diately began  to  heal.  As  for  Sir  Accalon,  she  would  not  have  ...  . 

J         fe  ii.          Vivien  healeth 

to  do  with  his  wounds,  but  let  one  of  her  attendants  bathe  him    King  Arthur. 
and  dress  his  hurts. 

Now  when  the  next  morning  had  come,  King  Arthur  was  so  much 
recovered  that  he  was  able  to  arise,  though  very  weak  and  sick  nigh  unto 
death.  So  he  got  up  from  his  couch  and  he  would  not  permit  anyone  to 
stay  him,  and  he  wrapped  a  cloak  about  him  and  went  to  the  place  where 
Sir  Accalon  lay.  When  he  had  come  there  he  questioned  Sir  Accalon 
very  narrowly  and  Sir  Accalon  told  him  all  that  had  happened  to  him 
after  he  had  left  that  ship,  and  how  the  strange  damsel  had  given  him  a 
sword  for  to  fight  with.  So  when  King  Arthur  heard  all  that  Sir  Accalon 
had  to  tell  him,  he  said,  "  Messire,  I  think  that  thou  art  not  to  be  blamed 
in  this  matter,  but  I  much  do  fear  me  that  there  is  treachery  here  to  com- 
pass my  ruin." 

Then  he  went  out  from  that  place  and  he  found  Vivien  and  he  said  to 
her,  "  Damsel,  I  beseech  thee  to  dress  the  wounds  of  that  knight  with  ,the 
same  balsam  that  thou  didst  use  to  dress  my  wounds."  "  Lord,"  said 
Vivien,  "  I  cannot  do  so,  for  I  have  no  more  of  that  balsam."  But  what 


I98  THE   STORY  OF  MERLIN 

she  said  was  false,  for  she  did  have  more  of  that  balsam,  but  she  did  not 
choose  to  use  it  upon  Sir  Accalon. 

sir  Accalon  dieth    So  that  af  ternoon  Sir  Accalon  died  of  his  wounds  which  he 
of  his  wounds,    had  received  in  his  battle  with  King  Arthur. 

And  that  day  King  Arthur  summoned  Sir  Domas  and  Sir  Ontzlake  into 
his  presence  and  they  came  and  stood  before  him,  so  filled  with  the  terror 
of  his  majesty,  that  they  had  not  the  power  to  stand,  but  fell  down  upon 
their  knees  unto  him. 

Then  King  Arthur  said,  "  I  will  pardon  you,  for  ye  knew  not  what  ye 
did.  But  thou,  Sir  Domas,  I  believe,  art  a  very  false  and  treasonable 
knight,  wherefore  I  shall  deprive  thee  of  all  thy  possessions  but  that  one 
single  castle  which  thy  brother  had  and  that  I  shall  give  unto  thee,  but  all 
thy  possessions  I  shall  give  unto  Sir  Ontzlake.  And  I  shall  further  ordain 
that  thou  shalt  never  hereafter  have  the  right  to  ride  upon 
dearth  with  Sir  anj  horse  but  a  palfrey,  for  thou  art  not  worthy  to  ride  upon 


a  courser  as  a  true  knight  hath  a  right  to  do.     And  I  com- 
mand it  of  thee  that  thou  shalt  presently  liberate  all  those 

knights  who  were  my  companions  in  captivity,  and  thou  shalt  recompense 

them  for  all  the  injury  that  thou  hast  done  to  them  according  as  it  shall  be 

decided  by  a  Court  of  Chivalry." 

Therewith  he  dismissed  those  two  knights,  and  they  were  very  glad  that 

he  had  dealt  so  mercifully  with  them. 


CONCLUSION 

Now  shortly  after  that  combat  betwixt  King-  Arthur  and  Sir  Accalon 
the  news  thereof  was  brought  to  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay,  and  the  next  day 
thereafter  she  heard  that  Sir  Accalon  was  dead,  and  she  wist  not  how  it 
could  be  that  her  designs  could  have  so  miscarried.  Then  she  wasa-doubt 
as  to  how  much  King  Arthur  might  know  of  her  treachery,  so  she  said  to 
herself,  "  I  will  go  and  see  my  brother,  the  King-,  and  if  he  is  -. 

J  .  Queen  Morgana 

aware  of  my  treason  I  will  beseech  him  to  pardon  my  trans-  cometk  to  King 
gression."     So,  having  made  diligent  inquiry  as  to  where  it  Arthur- 
was  that  King  Arthur  lay,  she  gathered  together  her  Court  of  knights  and 
esquires  and  went  thitherward. 

So  she  came  to  that  place  upon  the  fifth  day  after  the  battle,  and  when 
she  had  come  there  she  asked  of  those  who  were  in  attendance  what  cheer 
the  King  had.  They  answered  her,  "  He  is  asleep  and  he  must  not  be  dis- 
turbed." To  the  which  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  replied,  "  No  matter,  I  am 
not  to  be  forbidden,  for  I  must  presently  see  him  and  speak  with  him."  So 
they  did  not  dare  to  stay  her  because  she  was  the  King's  sister. 

So  Queen  Morgana  went  into  the  chamber  where  the  King  lay  and  he 
did  not  waken  at  her  coming.  Then  Queen  Morgana  was  filled  full  of 
hatred  and  a  great  desire  for  revenge,  wherefore  she  said  to  herself,  "  I  will 
take  Excalibur  and  his  shield  and  will  carry  them  away  with  me  to  Avalon, 
and  my  brother  shall  never  see  them  again."  So  she  went  very  softly  to 
where  King  Arthur  lay,  and  she  looked  upon  him  as  he  slept  and  perceived 
that  he  had  Excalibur  beside  him  and  that  he  held  the  handle  Morgana 


of  the  sword  in  his  hand  while  he  slept.     Then  Queen  Morgana  steals  the  sheath 
said,  "  Alas,  for  this,  for  if  I  try  to  take  Excalibur  away  from  of  Excalibur. 
him,  haply  he  will  awake  and  he  will  slay  me  for  my  treason."     Then  she 
looked  and  perceived  where  the  sheath  of  Excalibur  lay  at  the  foot  of  the 


2oo  THE   STORY  OF  MERLIN 

couch.  So  she  took  the  sheath  of  Excalibur  very  softly  and  she  wrapped 
it  up  in  her  mantle  and  she  went  out  thence,  and  King  Arthur  did  not 
awaken  at  her  going. 

So  Queen  Morgana  came  out  from  the  King's  chamber  and  she  said 
to  those  in  attendance,  "  Do  not  waken  the  King,  for  he  sleepeth  very 
soundly."  Therewith  she  mounted  her  horse  and  went  her  way  from  that 
place. 

Now,  after  a  considerable  while,  King  Arthur  awoke  and  he  looked  for 
the  sheath  of  Excalibur,  but  he  perceived  that  it  was  gone,  wherefore  he 
said  immediately,  "  Who  hath  been  here?"  They  in  attendance  made 
answer,  "  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  had  been  here  and  she  came  in  and  saw 
you  and  went  her  way  without  waking  you."  Then  King  Arthur's  heart 
misgave  him,  and  he  said,  I  fear  me  that  she  hath  dealt  treacherously  with 
me  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  these  adventures." 

Whereupon  he  arose  and  summoned  all  his  knights  and  esquires  and 
mounted  his  horse  for  pursuit  of  Queen  Morgana,  although  he  was  still 
passing  sick  and  faint  from  his  sore  wounds  and  loss  of  blood. 

Now,  as  the  King  was  about  ready  to  depart,  Vivien  came  to  him 
where  he  was,  and  she  said,  "  Lord,  take  me  with  thee,  for  if  thou  dost  not 
do  so  thou  wilt  never  recover  Excalibur  his  sheath,  nor  wilt  thou  ever 
overtake  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay."  And  King  Arthur  said,  "  Come  with 
me,  damsel,  in  God's  name."  So  Vivien  went  with  him  in  pursuit  of 
Queen  Morgana. 

(  Now,  by  and  by,  as  she  fled,  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  looked  behind  her 
and  therewith  she  perceived  that  Vivien  was  with  the  party  of  King 
Arthur,  wherefore  her  heart  failed  her  and  she  said,  "  I  fear  me  that  I  am 
now  altogether  ruined,  for  I  have  aided  that  damsel  to  acquire  such 
knowledge  of  magic  that  I  shall  have  no  spells  to  save  myself  from  her 
counter-spell.  But  at  any  rate  it  shall  be  that  King  Arthur  shall  never 
have  the  sheath  of  Excalibur  again  for  to  help  him  in  his  hour  of  need." 

Now  at  that  time  they  were  passing  beside  the  margin  of  a  lake  of  con- 
siderable  size.     So  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  took  the  sheath  of 

yueen  Morgana    •»-<,.. 

thro-wetkthe        Excalibur  in  both  her  hands  and  swung  it  by  its  belt  above 

^urfntofhTiafe.  hei"   head   and   she   threw   it   a   great  distance   out  into  the 

water. 

Then,  lo !  a  very  singular  miracle  occurred,  for  there  suddenly  appeared 
a  woman's  arm  out  of  the  water  and  it  was  clad  in  white.  And  it  was 
adorned  with  many  bracelets.  And  the  hand  of  the  arm  catched  the 
sheath  of  Excalibur  and  drew  it  underneath  the  water  and  no  one  ever 
beheld  that  sheath  again. 


VIVIEN  LEAVES  KING  ARTHUR  201 

So  the  sheath  of  Excalibur  was  lost,  and  that  was  a  grievous  thing  for 
King  Arthur  in  after  time,  as  you  may  some  time  read. 

Now  after  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  had  thus  thrown  the  sheath  of  Ex- 
calibur into  the  lake,  she  went  on  a  little  farther  to  where  was  a  very 
lonely  place  with  a  great  many  rocks  and  stones  lying:  about 

i  i          A      j        i  i        i       i  11  Queen  Morgana 

upon  the  ground.     And  when  she  had  come  to  that  place  she  exercises  her 
exercised  very  potent  spells  of  magic  that  Merlin  had  taught  masie- 
her.     So,  by  means  of  those  spells,  she  transformed  herself  and  all  of  her 
Court  and  all  of  their  horses  into  large  round  stones  of  divers  sizes. 

Then  in  a  little  while  came  King  Arthur  to  that  place  with  his  knights 
and  esquires,  and  he  was  exceedingly  heavy  of  heart,  for  he  had  beheld 
from  a  great  distance  how  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay  had  thrown  the  sheath 
of  Excalibur  into  that  lake. 

Now  when  the  King  and  his  Court  had  come  to  that  spot  the  damsel 
Vivien  called  out  upon  him  to  stop  and  she  said  to  him,  "  Lord,  dost  thou 
behold  all  those  great  round  stones?"  "Yea,"  said  the  King,  "  I  do  see 
them."  Then  Vivien  said,  "  Lo !  those  stones  are  Queen  Morgana  le  Fay 
and  the  Court  who  were  with  her.  For  this  magic  that  she  hath  done  to 
change  herself  and  them  into  stones  was  a  certain  thing  that  Merlin  had 
taught  her.  Now  I  myself  know  that  magic,  and  I  also  know  how  to 
remove  that  magic  at  my  will.  Wherefore,  if  thou  wilt  promise  to 
immediately  punish  that  wicked  woman  for  all  her  treason  by  depriving 
her  of  her  life,  then  will  I  bring  her  back  unto  her  true  shape  again  so 
that  thou  mayst  have  her  in  thy  power." 

Then  King  Arthur  looked  upon  Vivien  with  great  displeasure,  and  he 
said,  "  Damsel,  thou  hast  a  cruel  heart !  Thou  thyself  hast  suffered  no 
injury  at  the  hands  of  Queen  Morgana ;  wherefore,  then,  wouldst  thou 
have  me  slay  her?  Now,  but  for  all  thou  hast  done  for  me  1  j^ing  Arthur 
would  be  very  much  affronted  with  thee.  As  for  her,  I  forgive  chideth  n™n- 
her  all  of  this,  and  I  shall  forgive  her  again  and  again  and  yet  again  if  she 
sin  against  me.  For  her  mother  was  my  mother,  and  the  blood  which 
flows  in  her  veins  and  in  my  veins  cometh  from  the  same  fountain-head, 
wherefore  I  will  do  no  evil  thing  against  her.  Let  us  return  again  whence 
we  came." 

Then  Vivien  looked  upon  King  Arthur  very  bitterly,  and  she  laughed 
with  great  scorn,  and  said,  "  Thou  art  both  a  fool  and  a  dotard,"  and  there- 
with  she  vanished  from  the  sight  of  all. 

And  after  that,  because  King  Arthur  had  rebuked  her  for  her  wicked- 
ness in  the  presence  of  others,  she  hated  him  even  more  than  Morgana  le 
Fay  had  hated  him. 


2O2 


THE   STORY  OF  MERLIN 


Some  time  after  that,  King  Arthur  heard  how  Merlin  had  been  beguiled 
by  Vivien,  and  he  sorrowed  with  great  bitterness  that  Merlin  was  lost 
unto  the  world  in  that  wise. 

So  endeth  the  story  of  the  passing  of  Merlin. 


PART  II 
The  Story  of  Sir  Pellias 


TJERE  followeth  the  story  of  Sir  Pellias,  surnamed  by  many  the  Gentle 
±A  Knight. 

For  Sir  Pellias  was  of  such  a  sort  that  it  was  said  of  him  that  all  women 
loved  him  without  disadvantage  to  themselves,  and  that  all  men  loved  him  to 
their  great  good  advantage. 

Wherefore,  when  in  the  end  he  won  for  his  beloved  that  beautiful  Lady  of  the 
Lake,  who  was  one  of  the  chief est  damoiselles  of  Faery,  and  when  he  went  to 
dwell  as  lord  paramount  in  that  wonderful  habitation  which  no  other  mortal 
than  he  and  Sir  Launcelot  of  the  Lake  had  ever  beheld,  then  were  all  men  re- 
joiced at  his  great  good  fortune — albeit  all  the  Court  of  King  Arthur  grieved 
that  he  had  departed  so  far  away  from  them  never  to  return  again. 

So  I  believe  that  you  will  have  pleasure  in  reading  the  history  of  the  things 
concerning  Sir  Pellias  hereinafter  written  for  your  edification. 


ir  Pellias,  %  Gentler 
Knight. 


Chapter  First. 


How  Queen  Guinevere  Went  a-Maying  and  of  How  Sir  Pellias  Took 
Upon  Him  a  Quest  in  Her  Behalf. 

NOW  it  befell  upon  a  pleasant  day  in  the  spring-time,  that  Queen 
Guinevere  went  a-Maying  with  a  goodly  company  of  Knights 
and  Ladies  of  her  Court.   And  among  those  Knights      ~gn  Guine_ 
were  Sir  Pellias,  and  Sir  Geraint,  and  Sir  Dinadan,  and  Sir     veregoeth 
Aglaval,  and  Sir  Agravaine,  and  Sir  Constantine  of  Cornwall,     a~Mayins- 
and  sundry  others,  so  that  the  like  of  that  Court  was  hardly  to  be  found  in 
all  of  the  world,  either  then  or  before  or  since. 

The  day  was  exceedingly  pleasant  with  the  sunlight  all  yellow,  like  to 
gold,  and  the  breeze  both  soft  and  gentle.  The  small  birds  they  sang  with 
very  great  joy,  and  all  about  there  bloomed  so  many  flowers  of  divers  sorts 
that  the  entire  meadows  were  carpeted  with  their  tender  green.  So  it 
seemed  to  Queen  Guinevere  that  it  was  very  good  to  be  abroad  in  the 
field  and  beneath  the  sky  at  such  a  season. 


206  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

Now  as  the  Queen  and  her  Court  walked  in  great  joy  among  the  blos- 
soms, one  of  the  damsels  attendant  upon  the  Lady  Guinevere  cried  out  of 
a  sudden,   "Look!    Look!     Who  is  that  cometh   yonder?" 

/  here  cometh,  * 

a  damsel  to  the  Thereupon  Queen  Guinevere  lifted  up  her  eyes,  and  she  be- 
May party.  j^d  that  there  came  across  the  meadows  a  damsel  riding  upon 
a  milk-white  palfrey,  accompanied  by  three  pages  clad  in  sky-blue  raiment. 
That  damsel  was  also  clad  entirely  in  azure,  and  she  wore  a  finely  wrought 
chain  of  gold  about  her  neck  and  a  fillet  of  gold  about  her  brows,  and  her 
hair,  which  was  as  yellow  as  gold,  was  wrapped  all  about  with  bands  of 
blue  ribbon  embroidered  with  gold.  And  one  of  the  pages  that  followed 
the  damsel  bare  a  square  frame  of  no  very  great  size,  and  that  the  frame 
was  enveloped  and  covered  with  a  curtain  of  crimson  satin. 

Now  when  the  Queen  beheld  that  goodly  company  approaching,  she  bade 
one  of  the  knights  attendant  upon  her  for  to  go  forth  to  meet  the  damsel.  And 
the  knight  who  went  forth  in  obedience  to  her  command  was  Sir  Pellias. 

So  when  Sir  Pellias  met  the  damsel  and  her  three  pages,  he  spake  to  her 
sir  Pellias  *n  *^s  wise :  "Fair  damsel,  I  am  commanded  by  yonder 
taiketh  -with  lady  for  to  greet  you  and  to  crave  of  you  the  favor  of  your 

the  damsel.  ^^  ^  purpose." 

"  Sir  Knight,"  said  the  damsel,  "  I  do  perceive  from  your  countenance 
and  address  that  you  are  some  lord  of  very  high  estate  and  of  great 
nobility,  wherefore  I  will  gladly  tell  to  you  that  my  name  is  Parcenet, 
and  that  I  am  a  damsel  belonging  to  the  Court  of  a  certain  very  high 
dame  who  dwelleth  at  a  considerable  distance  from  here,  and  who  is 
called  the  Lady  Ettard  of  Grantmesnle.  Now  I  come  hitherward  desiring 
to  be  admitted  into  the  presence  of  Queen  Guinevere.  Accordingly,  if 
you  can  tell  me  whereabout  I  may  find  that  noble  lady,  I  shall  assuredly 
be  very  greatly  beholden  unto  you." 

"  Ha,  Lady  !  "  quoth  Sir  Pellias,  "  thou  shalt  not  have  very  far  to  go  to 
find  Queen  Guinevere ;  for,  behold !  yonder  she  walketh,  surrounded  by 
her  Court  of  Lords  and  Ladies."  Then  the  damsel  said,  "  I  prithee  bring 
me  unto  her." 

So  Sir  Pellias  led  Parcenet  unto  the  Queen,  and  Queen  Guinevere  re- 
ceived her  with  great  graciousness  of  demeanor,  saying,  "  Damsel,  what  is 
it  that  ye  seek  of  us  ? " 

The  damsel  "  Lad^'"  quotn  tne  damsel,  "  I  will  tell  you  that  very  readily. 

telieth  Queen  The  Lady  Ettard,  my  mistress,  is  considered  by  all  in  those 
e  parts  where  she  dwelleth  to  be  the  most  beautiful  lady  in  the 
world.  Now,  of  late,  there  hath  come  such  a  report  of  your 
exceeding  beauty  that  the  Lady  Ettard  hath  seen  fit  for  to  send  me  hither- 


SIX  PELLIAS   TAKETH  QUEEN  GUINEVERE'S   QUARREL      207 

ward  to  see  with  mine  own  eyes  if  that  which  is  recorded  of  you  is 
soothly  true.  And  indeed,  Lady,  now  that  I  stand  before  you,  I  may  not 
say  but  that  you  are  the  fairest  dame  that  ever  mine  eyes  beheld  unless  it 
be  the  Lady  Ettard  aforesaid." 

Then  Queen  Guinevere  laughed  with  very  great  mirth.  And  she  said, 
"  It  appears  to  me  to  be  a  very  droll  affair  that  thou  shouldst  have  trav- 
elled so  great  a  distance  for  so  small  a  matter."  Then  she  said,  "  Tell  me, 
damsel,  what  is  that  thy  page  beareth  so  carefully  wrapped  up  in  that 
curtain  of  crimson  satin?" 

"  Lady,"  quoth  the  damsel,  "  it  is  a  true  and  perfect  likeness  of  the  Lady 
Ettard,  who  is  my  mistress." 

Then  Queen  Guinevere  said,  "  Show  it  to  me." 

Upon  this  the  page  who  bore  the  picture  dismounted  from  his  palfrey 
and,  coming  to  Queen  Guinevere,  he  kneeled  down  upon  one  knee  and  un- 
covered the  picture  so  that  the  Queen  and  her  Court  might   The  damsel 
look  upon  it.     Thereupon  they  all  beheld  that  that  picture  showeth  the  Lady 

-1  i     r  •  r  j       -^u    ^tard' s  picture 

was  painted  very  cunningly  upon  a  panel  of  ivory  framed  with  to  the  Queen  and 
gold  and  inset  with  many  jewels  of  divers  colors.  And  they  herCourt> 
saw  that  it  was  the  picture  of  a  lady  of  such  extraordinary  beauty  that  all 
they  who  beheld  it  marvelled  thereat.  "  Hey,  damsel ! "  quoth  Queen 
Guinevere,  "  thy  lady  is,  indeed,  graced  with  wonderful  beauty.  Now  if 
she  doth  in  sooth  resemble  that  picture,  then  I  believe  that  her  like  to 
loveliness  is  not  to  be  found  anywhere  in  the  world." 

Upon  this  Sir  Pellias  spake  out  and  said,  "  Not  so,  Lady ;  for  I  do  pro- 
test,  and  am  willing  to  maintain  my  words  with  the  peril  of  my  body,  that 
thou  thyself  art  much  more  beautiful  than  that  picture." 

"  Hey  day,  Sir  Knight ! "  quoth  the  damsel  Parcenet,  "  it  is  well  that  thou 
dost  maintain  that  saying  so  far  away  from  Grantmesnle ;  for  at  that  place 
is  a  certain  knight,  hight  Sir  Engamore  of  Malverat,  who  is  a  very  strong 
knight  indeed,  and  who  maintaineth  the  contrary  to  thy  saying  in  favor  of 
the  Lady  Ettard  against  all  comers  who  dare  to  encounter  him." 

Then  Sir  Pellias  kneeled  down  before  Queen  Guinevere,  and  set  his  palms 
together.  "  Lady,"  he  said,  "  I  do  pray  thee  of  thy  grace  that  thou  wilt  so 
far  honor  me  as  to  accept  me  for  thy  true  knight  in  this  mat- 

•  i          u    U    U   '  f    T      Sir  Petlia*  as~ 

ter.     For  I  would  fain  assay  an  adventure  in  thy  benaii  it       sumes  the  ad- 
have  thy  permission  for  to  do  so.    Wherefore,  if  thou  grantest    JJJjJJT^^ 
me  leave,  I  will  straightway  go  forth  to  meet  this  knight  of    Queen. 
whom  the  damsel  speaketh,  and  I  greatly  hope  that  when  I 
find  him  I  shall  cause  his  overthrow  to  the  increasing  of  thy  glory  and 
honor.  ' 


208  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

Then  Queen  Guinevere  laughed  again  with  pure  merriment.  "  Sir/* 
quoth  she,  "  it  pleases  me  beyond  measure  that  thou  shouldst  take  so  small 
a  quarrel  as  this  upon  thee  in  my  behalf.  For  if,  so  be,  thou  dost 
assume  so  small  a  quarrel,  then  how  much  more  wouldst  thou  take  a  serious 
quarrel  of  mine  upon  thee  ?  Wherefore  I  do  accept  thee  very  joyfully  for 
my  champion  in  this  affair.  So  go  thou  presently  and  arm  thyself  in  such 
a  way  as  may  be  fitting  for  this  adventure." 

"  Lady,"  said  Sir  Pellias,  "  if  I  have  thy  leave,  I  will  enter  into  this 
affair  clad  as  I  am.  For  I  entertain  hopes  that  I  shall  succeed  in  winning 
armor  and  accoutrements  upon  the  way,  in  the  which  case  this  advent- 
ure will  be  still  more  to  thy  credit  than  it  would  otherwise  be." 

At  this  the  Queen  was  very  much  pleased,  that  her  knight  should  under- 
take so  serious  an  adventure  clad  only  in  holiday  attire  ;  wherefore  she 
said,  "  Let  it  be  as  thou  wouldst  have  it."  Thereupon  she  bade  her  page, 
Florian,  for  to  go  fetch  the  best  horse  that  he  might  obtain  for  Sir  Pellias ; 
and  Florian,  running  with  all  speed,  presently  returned  with  a  noble 
steed,  so  black  of  hue  that  I  believe  there  was  not  a  single  white  hair  upon 
him. 

Then  Sir  Pellias  gave  adieu  to  Queen  Guinevere,  and  her  merry  May- 
court,  and  they  gave  him  adieu  and  great  acclaim,  and  thereupon  he 
mounted  his  horse  and  rode  away  with  the  damsel  Parcenet  and  the 
three  pages  clad  in  blue. 

Now  when  these  had  gone  some  distance  the  damsel  Parcenet  said, 
"  Sir,  I  know  not  thy  name  or  thy  condition,  or  who  thou  art  ?  " 

Unto  this  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  Damsel,  my  name  is  Pellias  and  I  am  a 
knight  of  King  Arthur's  Round  Table." 

At  that  Parcenet  was  very  much  astonished,  for  Sir  Pellias  was  held  by 
many  to  be  the  best  knight-at-arms  alive,  saving  only  King  Arthur  and 
Sir  Pellias  and  King  Pellinore.  Wherefore  she  cried  out.  "  Messire,  it  will  as- 
Parcenet  dis-  suredly  be  a  very  great  honor  for  Sir  Engamore  to  have  to  do 
'ier'  with  so  famous  a  knight  as  thou."  Unto  this  Sir  Pellias  said, 
"  Damsel,  I  think  there  are  several  knights  of  King  Arthur's  Round  Table 
who  are  better  knights  than  I."  But  Parcenet  said,  "  I  cannot  believe  that 
to  be  the  case." 

Then  after  awhile  Parcenet  said  to  Sir  Pellias,  "  Messire,  how  wilt  thou 
get  '  thyself  armor  for  to  fight  Sir  Engamore  ?  "  "  Maiden,"  said  Sir 
Pellias,  "  I  do  not  know  at  these  present  where  I  shall  provide  me  armor ; 
but  before  the  time  cometh  for  me  to  have  to  do  with  Sir  Engamore,  I 
have  faith  that  I  shall  find  armor  fit  for  my  purpose.  For  thou  must 
know  that  it  is  not  always  the  defence  that  a  man  weareth  upon  his  body 


THEY  COME    TO  ARROY  209 

that  bringeth  him  success,  but  more  often  it  is  the  spirit  that  uplifteth  him 
unto  his  undertakings." 

Then  Parcenet  said,  "  Sir  Pellias,  I  do  not  believe  that  it  is  often  the  case 
that  a  lady  hath  so  good  a  knight  as  thou  for  to  do  battle  in  her  behalf." 
To  which  Sir  Pellias  said  very  cheerfully,  "  Damsel,  when  thy  time  cometh 
I  wish  that  thou  mayst  have  a  very  much  better  knight  to  serve  thee  than 
I."  "  Sir,"  quoth  Parcenet,  "  such  a  thing  as  that  is  not  likely  to  befall  me." 
At  the  which  Sir  Pellias  laughed  with  great  lightness  of  heart.  Then  Par- 
cenet said,  "  Heigh  ho !  I  would  that  I  had  a  good  knight  for  to  serve  me." 

To  this  Sir  Pellias  made  very  sober  reply,  "  Maiden,  the  first  one  that  I 
catch  I  will  give  unto  thee  for  thy  very  own.  Now  wouldst  thou  have  him 
fair  or  dark,  or  short  or  tall?  For  if  thou  wouldst  rather  have  him  short 
and  fair  I  will  let  the  tall,  dark  one  go ;  but  if  thou  wouldst  have  him  tall 
and  dark,  I  will  let  go  the  other  sort." 

Then  Parcenet  looked  very  steadily  at  Sir  Pellias,  and  she  said,  "  I  would 
have  him  about  as  tall  as  thou  art,  and  with  the  same  color  of  hair  and 
eyes,  and  with  a  straight  nose  like  unto  thine,  and  with  a  good  wit  such  as 
thou  hast." 

"  Alas ! "  said  Sir  Pellias,  "  I  would  that  thou  hadst  told  me  this  before 
we  had  come  so  far  from  Camelot ;  for  I  could  easily  have  got  thee  such  a 
knight  at  that  place.  For  they  have  them  there  in  such  plenty  that  they 
keep  them  in  wicker  cages,  and  sell  them  two  for  a  farthing."  Whereat 
Parcenet  laughed  very  cheerfully,  and  said,  "  Then  Camelot  must  be  a 
very  wonderful  place,  Sir  Pellias." 

So,  with  very  merry  discourse  they  journeyed  upon  their  way  with 
great  joy  and  good  content,  taking  much  pleasure  in  the  spring-time  and 
the  pleasant  meadows  whereon  they  travelled,  being  without  care  of  any 
sort,  and  heart-full  of  cheerfulness  and  good-will. 

That  night  they  abided  at  a  very  quaint,  pleasant  hostelry  that  stood  at 
the  outskirts  of  the  Forest  of  Usk,  and  the  next  morning  they  departed 
betimes  in  the  freshness  of  the  early  day,  quitting  that  place  and  entering 
into  the  forest  shadows. 

Now,  after  they  had  travelled  a  considerable  distance  in  that  forest,  the 
damsel  Parcenet  said  to  Sir  Pellias,    "  Sir,  do  you  know  what  part  of  the 
woods  this  is?  "     "  Nay,"  said  Sir  Pellias.     "  Well,"  said  Par-  sirpdKas  and 
cenet,  "  this  part  of  the  woodland  is  sometimes  called  Ar-  parccnet  come 
roy,  and  is  sometimes  called  the  Forest  of  Adventure.     For  5J£££  * 
I  must  tell  you  it  is  a  very  wonderful  place,  full  of  magic  of 
sundry  sorts.     For  it  is  said  that  no  knight  may  enter  into  this  forest  but 
some  adventure  shall  befall  him." 


aio  THE  STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

"  Damsel,"  said  Sir  Pellias,  "  that  which  thou  tellest  me  is  very  good 
news.  For,  maybe,  if  we  should  fall  in  with  some  adventure  at  this 
place  I  may  then  be  able  to  obtain  armor  suitable  for  my  purpose." 

So  they  entered  the  Forest  of  Adventure  forthwith,  and  then  travelled 
therein  for  a  long  way,  marvelling  greatly  at  the  aspect  of  that  place  into 
which  they  were  come.  For  the  Forest  was  very  dark  and  silent  and 
wonderfully  strange  and  altogether  different  from  any  other  place  that 
they  had  ever  seen.  Wherefore  it  appeared  to  them  that  it  would 
not  be  at  all  singular  if  some  extraordinary  adventure  should  befall 
them. 

So  after  they  had  travelled  in  this  wise  for  a  considerable  pass  they  came 
of  a  sudden  out  of  those  thicker  parts  of  the  woodland  to  where  was  an 
opening  of  considerable  extent.  And  there  they  beheld  before  them  a 
violent  stream  of  water  that  flowed  very  turbulently  and  with 
-  great  uproar  of  many  noises.  And  they  saw  that  by  the  side 
side  the  foun-  of  the  stream  of  water  there  was  a  thorn-tree,  and  that  under- 
neath  the  thorn-tree  was  a  bank  of  green  moss,  and  that  upon 
the  bank  of  moss  there  sat  an  aged  woman  of  a  very  woful  appearance. 
For  that  old  woman  was  extraordinarily  withered  with  age,  and  her  eyes 
were  all  red  as  though  with  a  continual  weeping  of  rheum,  and  many  bris- 
tles grew  upon  her  cheeks  and  her  chin,  and  her  face  was  covered  with 
such  a  multitude  of  wrinkles  that  there  was  not  any  place  that  was  free 
from  wrinkles. 

Now  when  that  old  woman  beheld  Sir  Pellias  and  Parcenet  and  the 
three  pages  approaching  where  she  sat,  she  cried  out  in  a  loud  voice, 
"  Sir,  wilt  thou  not  bear  me  over  this  water  upon  thy  horse  ?  For,  lo !  I 
am  very  old  and  feeble  and  may  not  cross  this  river  by  myself." 

Then  Parcenet  rebuked  the  old  woman,  saying,  "  Peace,  be  still  \ 
Who  art  thou  to  ask  this  noble  knight  for  to  do  thee  such  a  service  as 
that?" 

Then  Sir  Pellias  was  not  pleased  with   Parcenet,  wherefore   he  said, 

"  Damsel,  thou  dost  not  speak  properly  in  this  matter,  for  that  which  be- 

seemeth  a  true  knight  is  to  give  succor  unto  anyone  soever  who  needeth 

his  aid.      For  King  Arthur  is  the  perfect  looking-glass  of   knighthood, 

and  he  hath  taught  his  knights  to  give  succor  unto  all  who  ask  succor 

of  them,  without  regarding  their  condition.     So  saying  Sir 

ries  the  ^u  '*  '  Pellias  dismounted  from  his  horse  and  lifted  the  old  woman 

woman  across     Up  upon  the  saddle  thereof.     Then  he  himself  mounted  once 

more  and  straightway  rode  into  the  ford  of  the  river  and  so 

came  across  the  torrent  with  the  old  woman  in  safety  to  the  other  side. 


A   STRANGE   ADVENTURE   BEFALLETH  211 

And  Parcenet  followed  him,  marvelling  very  greatly  at  his  knightliness, 
and  the  three  pages  followed  her. 

Now  when  they  had  reached  the  other  side  of  the  water,  Sir  Pellias  dis- 
mounted with  intent  to  aid  the  old  woman  to  alight  from  the  horse.  But 
she  waited  not  for  his  aid,  but  immediately  leaped  down  very  lightly  from 
where  she  was.  And,  lo !  Sir  Pellias  beheld  that  she  whom  he  had  thought 
to  be  only  an  aged  and  withered  beldame  was,  in  truth,  a  very  strange, 
wonderful  lady  of  extraordinary  beauty.  And,  greatly  marvelling,  he 
beheld  that  she  was  clad  in  apparel  of  such  a  sort  as  neither  o  *  fhe  wonder 
he  nor  any  who  were  there  had  ever  beheld  before.  And  fui  Lady  of  the 
because  of  her  appearance  he  was  aware  that  she  was  not  like  ake' 
any  ordinary  mortal,  but  that  she  was  doubtless  of  enchantment.  For  he 
perceived  that  her  face  was  of  a  wonderful  clearness,  like  to  ivory  for 
whiteness,  and  that  her  eyes  were  very  black  and  extraordinarily  bright, 
like  unto  two  jewels  set  into  ivory  ;  and  he  perceived  that  she  was  clad 
all  in  green  from  head  to  foot  and  that  her  hair  was  long  and  perfectly 
black  and  like  to  fine  silk  for  softness  and  for  glossiness ;  and  he  perceived 
that  she  had  about  her  neck  a  collar  of  opal  stones  and  emeralds  inset 
into  gold,  and  that  about  her  wrists  were  bracelets  of  finely  wrought  gold 
inset  with  opal  stones  and  emeralds.  Wherefore  from  all  these  circum- 
stances he  knew  that  she  must  be  fay. 

(For  thus  was  the  Lady  Nymue  of  the  Lake ;  and  so  had  she  appeared 
unto  King  Arthur,  and  so  did  she  appear  unto  Sir  Pellias  and  those  who 
were  with  him.) 

So,  beholding  the  wonderful  magical  quality  of  that  lady,  Sir  Pellias 
kneeled  down  before  her  and  set  his  hands  together,  palm  to  palm.  But 
the  Lady  of  the  Lake  said,  "  Sir,  why  dost  thou  kneel  to  me?"  "  Lady," 
quoth  Sir  Pellias,  "  because  thou  art  so  wonderfully  strange  and  beauti- 
ful." "  Messire,"  said  the  Lady  of  the  Lake,  "  thou  hast  done  a  very  good 
service  to  me  and  art,  assuredly,  a  very  excellent  knight.  Wherefore, 
arise  and  kneel  no  longer!"  So  Sir  Pellias  arose  from  his  knees  and 
stood  before  her,  and  he  said,  "  Lady,  who  art  thou?"  To  the  which  she 
made  reply,  "  I  am  one  who  holdeth  an  exceedingly  kind  regard  toward 
King  Arthur  and  all  his  knights.  My  name  is  Nymue  and  I  am  the  chief- 
est  of  those  Ladies  of  the  Lake  of  whom  thou  mayst  have  heard  tell.  I 
took  upon  me  that  form  of  a  sorry  old  woman  for  to  test  thy  knightliness, 
and,  lo  !  I  have  not  found  thee  amiss  in  worthy  service."  Then  Sir  Pellias 
said,  "  Lady,  thou  hast  assuredly  done  me  great  favor  in  these."  Upon 
that  the  Lady  of  the  Lake  smiled  upon  Sir  Pellias  very  kindly,  and  she 
said,  "  Sir,  I  have  a  mind  to  do  thee  a  greater  favor  than  that." 


212  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

The  Lady  of  the  Therewith,  so  saying,  she  immediately  took  from  about  her 
Lakegiveth  Sir  neck  that  collar  of  opal  stones,  of  emeralds  and  gold,  and  hung 
lar  of  goldand  it  about  the  shoulders  of  Sir  Pellias,  so  that  it  hung  down  upon 
jewels.  his  breast  with  a  very  wonderful  glory  of  variegated  colors. 

"  Keep  this,"  she  said,  "  for  it  is  of  very  potent  magic." 

Upon  that  she  vanished  instantly  from  the  sight  of  those  who  were  there, 
leaving  them  astonished  and  amazed  beyond  measure  at  what  had  befallen. 

And  Sir  Pellias  was  like  one  who  was  in  a  dream,  for  he  wist  not 
whether  that  which  he  had  beheld  was  a  vision,  or  whether  he  had  seen  it 
with  his  waking  eyes.  Wherefore  he  mounted  upon  his  horse  in  entire 
silence,  as  though  he  knew  not  what  he  did.  And  likewise  in  entire  silence 
he  led  the  way  from  that  place.  Nor  did  any  of  those  others  speak  at  that 
time  ;  only  after  they  had  gone  a  considerable  distance  Parcenet  said, 
speaking  in  a  manner  of  fear,  "  Messire,  that  was  a  very  wonderful  thing 
that  befell  us."  To  which  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  Yea,  maiden." 

Now  that  necklace  which  the  Lady  of  the  Lake  had  hung  about  the 
neck  of  Sir  Pellias  possessed  such  a  virtue  that  whosoever  wore  it  was  be- 
loved of  all  those  who  looked  upon  him.  For  the  collar  was  enchanted 
with  that  peculiar  virtue  ;  but  Sir  Pellias  was  altogether  unaware  of  that 
circumstance,  wherefore  he  only  took  joy  to  himself  because  of  the  singu- 
lar beauty  of  the  jewel  which  the  Lady  of  the  Lake  had  given  him. 


irPellia*  encounters 
Soronof td  Laby  in  Atroj? 


Chapter  Second. 


How  Sir  Pellias  Overcame  a  Red  Knight,  Higkt  Sir  Adresack, 
and  of  How  He  Liberated  XXII  Captives  From  That  Knight's 
Castle. 

NOW,  after  that  wonderful  happening,  they  journeyed  continu- 
ously for  a  great  while.     Nor  did  they  pause  at  any  place  until 
they  came,  about  an  hour  after  the  prime  of  the  day,  to  a  cer- 
tain part  of  the  forest  where  charcoal-burners  were  plying  their  trade. 
Here  Sir  Pellias  commanded  that  they  should  draw  rein  and  rest  for  a 
while,  and  so  they  dismounted  for  to  rest  and  to  refresh  themselves,  as  he 
had  ordained  that  they  should  do. 

Now  as  they  sat  there  refreshing  themselves  with  meat  and  drink,  there 
came  of  a  sudden  from  out  of  the  forest  a  sound  of  great  lamentation  and 
of  loud  outcry,  and  almost  immediately  there  appeared  from 
the  thickets,  coming  into  that  open  place,  a  lady  in  woful   sorrowful  lady 
array,  riding  upon  a  pied  palfrey.     And  behind  her  rode  a   and  an  esquire 

•  i    j    •  i  r  j       u-A  j  j     ™to  the  forest. 

young  esquire,  clad  in  colors  of  green  and  white  and  seated 
upon  a  sorrel  horse.  And  he  also  appeared  to  be  possessed  of  great 
sorrow,  being  in  much  disarray  and  very  downcast  of  countenance.  And 
the  lady's  face  was  all  beswollen  and  inflamed  with  weeping,  and  her  hair 
hung  down  upon  her  shoulders  with  neither  net  nor  band  for  to  stay  it  in 
place,  and  her  raiment  was  greatly  torn  by  the  brambles  and  much  stained 
with  forest  travel.  And  the  young  esquire  who  rode  behind  her  came 
with  a  drooping  head  and  a  like  woful  disarray  of  apparel,  his  cloak  drag- 
ging behind  him  and  made  fast  to  his  shoulder  by  only  a  single  point. 

Now  when  Sir  Pellias  beheld  the  lady  and  the  esquire  in  such  sad  estate, 
he  immediately  arose  from  where  he  sat  and  went  straightway  to  the  lady 
and  took  her  horse  by  the  bridle  and  stayed  it  where  it  was.  And  the 
lady  looked  at  him,  yet  saw  him  not,  being  altogether  blinded  by  her  grief 
and  distraction.  Then  Sir  Pellias  said  to  her,  "  Lady,  what  ails  thee  that 
thou  sorrowest  so  greatly  ?  "  Whereunto  she  made  reply,  "  Sir,  it  matters 


216  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

not,  for  thou  canst  not  help  me."  "  How  know  ye  that?  "  said  Sir  Pellias. 
"  I  have  a  very  good  intention  for  to  aid  thee  if  it  be  possible  for  me 
to  do  so." 

Then  the  lady  looked  more  narrowly  at  Sir  Pellias,  and  she  perceived  him 
as  though  through  a  mist  of  sorrow.  And  she  beheld  that  he  was  not 
clad  in  armor,  but  only  in  a  holiday  attire  of  fine  crimson  cloth.  Where- 
fore she  began  sorrowing  afresh,  and  that  in  great  measure,  for  she  deemed 
that  here  was  one  who  could  give  her  no  aid  in  her  trouble.  Wherefore 
she  said,  "  Sir,  thy  intentions  are  kind,  but  how  canst  thou  look  to  give 
me  aid  when  thou  hast  neither  arms  nor  defences  for  to  help  thee  in  tak- 
ing upon  thee  such  a  quarrel  ?  "  But  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  Lady,  I  know  not 
how  I  may  aid  thee  until  that  thou  tellest  me  of  thy  sorrow.  Yet  I  have 
good  hope  that  I  may  serve  thee  when  I  shall  know  what  it  is  that  causes 
thee  such  disorder  of  mind."  Thereupon,  still  holding  the  horse  by  the 
bridle,  he  brought  the  lady  forward  to  that  place  where  Parcenet  still  sat 
beside  the  napkin  spread  with  food  with  which  they  had  been  refreshing 
themselves.  And  when  he  had  come  to  that  place,  he,  with  all  gentleness, 
constrained  the  lady  for  to  dismount  from  her  horse.  Then,  with  equal 
gentleness,  he  compelled  her  to  sit  down  upon  the  grass  and  to  partake  of 
the  food.  And  when  she  had  done  so,  and  had  drunk  some  of  the  wine, 
she  found  herself  to  be  greatly  refreshed  and  began  to  take  to  herself  more 
heart  of  grace.  Thereupon,  beholding  her  so  far  recovered,  Sir  Pellias 
again  demanded  of  her  what  was  her  trouble  and  besought  her  that  she 
would  open  her  heart  unto  him. 

So,  being  encouraged  by  his  cheerful  words,  she  told  to  Sir  Pellias  the 
trouble  that  had  brought  her  to  that  pass. 

"Sir  Knight,"  she  said,  "the  place  where  I  dwell  is  a  considerable  dis- 
tance from  this.  Thence  I  came  this  morning  with  a  very  good  knight, 
The  sorrowful  hignt  Sir  Brandemere,  who  is  my  husband.  We  have  been 
lady  telleth  her  married  but  for  a  little  over  four  weeks,  so  that  our  happiness 
until  this  morning  was  as  yet  altogether  fresh  with  us.  Now 
this  morning  Sir  Brandemere  would  take  me  out  a-huntingat  the  break  of 
day,  and  so  we  went  forth  with  a  brachet  of  which  my  knight  was  won- 
derfully fond.  So,  coming  to  a  certain  place  in  the  forest,  there  started  up 
of  a  sudden  from  before  us  a  doe,  which  same  the  brachet  immediately 
pursued  with  great  vehemence  of  outcry.  Thereupon,  I  and  my  lord  and 
this  esquire  followed  thereafter  with  very  great  spirit  and  enjoyment  of 
the  chase.  Now,  when  we  had  followed  the  doe  and  the  hound  for  a  great 
distance — the  hound  pursuing  the  doe  with  a  great  passion  of  eager- 
ness— we  came  to  a  certain  place  where  we  beheld  before  us  a  violent 


THE   STORY  OF  SIR  BRANDEMERE  217 

stream  of  water  which  was  crossed  by  a  long  and  narrow  bridge.  And 
we  beheld  that  upon  the  other  side  of  the  stream  there  stood  a  strong 
castle  with  seven  towers,  and  that  the  castle  was  built  up  upon  the  rocks 
in  such  a  way  that  the  rocks  and  the  castle  appeared  to  be  altogether  like 
one  rock. 

"  Now,  as  we  approached  the  bridge  aforesaid,  lo !  the  portcullis  of  the 
castle  was  lifted  up  and  the  drawbridge  was  let  fall  very  suddenly  and 
with  a  great  noise,  and  there  immediately  issued  forth  from  out  of  the 
castle  a  knight  clad  altogether  in  red.  And  all  the  trappings  and  the  fur- 
niture of  his  horse  were  likewise  of  red ;  and  the  spear  which  he  bore  in 
his  hand  was  of  ash-wood  painted  red.  And  he  came  forth  very  terribly, 
and  rode  forward  so  that  he  presently  stood  at  the  other  end  of  that 
narrow  bridge.  Thereupon  he  called  out  aloud  to  Sir  Brandemere,  my 
husband,  saying:  'Whither  wouldst  thou  go,  Sir  Knight?'  And  unto 
him  Sir  Brandemere  made  reply  :  '  Sir,  I  would  cross  this  bridge,  for  my 
hound,  which  I  love  exceedingly,  hath  crossed  here  in  pursuit  of  a  doe.' 
Then  that  Red  Knight  cried  out  in  a  loud  voice, '  Sir  Knight,  thou  comest 
not  upon  this  bridge  but  at  thy  peril ;  for  this  bridge  belongeth  unto  me, 
and  whosoever  would  cross  it  must  first  overthrow  me  or  else  he  may  not 
cross.' 

"  Now,  my  husband,  Sir  Brandemere,  was  clad  at  that  time  only  in  a 
light  raiment  such  as  one  might  wear  for  hunting  or  for  hawking ;  only 
that  he  wore  upon  his  head  a  light  bascinet  enwrapped  with  a  scarf  which 
I  had  given  him.  Ne'theless,  he  was  so  great  of  heart  that  he  would  not 
abide  any  challenge  such  as  that  Red  Knight  had  given  unto  him  ;  where- 
fore, bidding  me  and  this  esquire  (whose  name  is  Pontefe^et)  to  remain 
upon  the  farther  side  of  the  bridge,  he  drew  his  sword  and  rode  forward  to 
the  middle  of  the  bridge  with  intent  to  force  a  way  across  if  he  was  able 
so  to  do.  Whereupon,  seeing  that  to  be  his  intent,  that  Red  Knight,  clad 
all  in  complete  armor,  cast  aside  his  spear  and  drew  his  sword  and  rode 
forward  to  meet  my  knight.  So  they  met  in  the  middle  of  the  bridge, 
and  when  they  had  thus  met  that  Red  Knight  lifted  himself  in  his  stirrup 
and  smote  my  husband,  Sir  Brandemere,  upon  the  crown  of  his  bascinet 
with  his  sword.  And  I  beheld  the  blade  of  the  Red  Knight's  sword  that  it 
cut  through  the  bascinet  of  Sir  Brandemere  and  deep  into  his  brain-pan, 
so  that  the  blood  ran  down  upon  the  knight's  face  in  great  abundance. 
Then  Sir  Brandemere  straightway  fell  down  from  his  horse  and  lay  as 
though  he  were  gone  dead. 

"  Having  thus  overthrown  him,  that  Red  Knight  dismounted  from  his 
horse  and  lifted  up  Sir  Brandemere  upon  the  horse  whence  he  had  fallen 


2i8  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

so  that  he  lay  across  the  saddle.  Then  taking  both  horses  by  the  bridles 
the  Red  Knight  led  them  straight  back  across  the  bridge  and  so  into  his 
castle.  And  as  soon  as  he  had  entered  into  the  castle  the  portcullis 
thereof  was  immediately  closed  behind  him  and  the  drawbridge  was 
raised.  Nor  did  he  pay  any  heed  whatever  either  to  me  or  to  the  esquire 
Ponteferet,  but  he  departed  leaving  us  without  any  word  of  cheer;  nor  do 
I  now  know  whether  my  husband,  Sir  Brandemere,  is  living  or  dead,  or 
what  hath  befallen  him." 

And  as  the  lady  spake  these  words,  lo  !  the  tears  again  fell  down  her 
face  in  great  abundance. 

Then  Sir  Pellias  was  very  much  moved  with  compassion,  wherefore  he 
said,  "  Lady,  thy  case  is,  indeed,  one  of  exceeding  sorrowfulness,  and  I  am 
greatly  grieved  for  thee.  And,  indeed,  I  would  fain  aid  thee  to  all  the 
Sir  Pellias  as-  extent  that  is  in  my  power.  So,  if  thou  wilt  lead  me  to  where 
advent-  js  this  bridge  and  that  grimly  castle  of  which  thou  speakest, 
I  make  thee  my  vow  that  I  will  assay  to  the  best  of  my  en- 


fuiiady.  deavor  to  learn  of  the  whereabouts  of  thy  good  knight,  and  as 

to  what  hath  befallen  him." 

"  Sir,"  said  the  lady,  "  I  am  much  beholden  unto  thee  for  thy  good  will. 
Yet  thou  mayst  not  hope  for  success  shouldst  thou  venture  to  undertake 
so  grave  an  adventure  as  that  without  either  arms  or  armor  for  to  defend 
thyself.  For  consider  how  grievously  that  Red  Knight  hath  served  my 
husband,  Sir  Brandemere,  taking  no  consideration  as  to  his  lack  of  arms  or 
defence.  Wherefore,  it  is  not  likely  that  he  will  serve  thee  any  more 
courteously."  And  to  the  lady's  words  Parcenet  also  lifted  up  a  great 
voice,  bidding  Sir  Pellias  not  to  be  so  unwise  as  to  do  this  thing  that  he 
was  minded  to  do.  And  so  did  Ponteferet,  the  esquire,  also  call  out  upon 
Sir  Pellias,  that  he  should  not  do  this  thing,  but  that  he  should  at  least  take 
arms  to  himself  ere  he  entered  upon  this  adventure. 

But  to  all  that  they  said  Sir  Pellias  replied,  "  Stay  me  not  in  that  which 
I  would  do,  for  I  do  tell  you  all  that  I  have  several  times  undertaken 
adventures  even  more  perilous  than  this  and  yet  I  have  'scaped  with  no 
great  harm  to  myself."  Nor  would  he  listen  to  anything  that  the  lady 
and  the  damsel  might  say,  but,  arising  from  that  place,  he  aided  the  lady 
and  the  damsel  to  mount  their  palfreys.  Then  mounting  his  own  steed, 
and  the  esquire  and  the  pages  having  mounted  their  steeds,  the  whole 
party  immediately  departed  from  that  place. 

So  they  journeyed  for  a  great  distance  through  the  forest,  the  esquire, 
Ponteferet,  directing  them  how  to  proceed  in  such  a  way  as  should  bring 
them  by  and  by  to  the  castle  of  the  Red  Knight.  So,  at  last  they  came  to 


PELLIAS  ENCOUNTERS   THE  RED  KNIGHT  219 

a  more  open  place  in  that  wilderness  where  was  a  steep  and  naked  hill 
before  them.     And  when  they  had  reached  to  the  top  of  that  hill  they 
perceived  beneath  them  a  river,  very  turbulent  and  violent.    _, 
Likewise  they  saw  that  the  river  was  spanned  by  a  bridge,  tkt  castle  of  the 
exceedingly  straight  and  narrow,  and  that  upon  the  farther  Red  Knisht- 
side  of  the  bridge  and  of  the  river  there  stood  a  very  strong  castle  with 
seven  tall  towers.     Moreover  the  castle  and  the  towers  were  built  up  upon 
the  rocks,  very  lofty  and  high,  so  that  it  was  hard  to  tell  where  the  rocks 
ceased  and  the  walls  began,  wherefore  the  towers  and  the  walls  appeared 
to  be  altogether  one  rock  of  stone. 

Then  the  esquire,  Ponteferet,  pointed  with  his  finger,  and  said,  "  Sir 
Knight,  yonder  is  the  castle  of  the  Red  Knight,  and  into  it  he  bare  Sir 
Brandemere  after  he  had  been  so  grievously  wounded."  Then  Sir  Pellias 
said  unto  the  lady,  "  Lady,  I  will  presently  inquire  as  to  thy  husband's 
welfare." 

Therewith  he  set  spurs  to  his  horse  and  rode  down  the  hill  toward  the 
bridge  with  great  boldness.  And  when  he  had  come  nigher  to  the  bridge, 
lo !  the  portcullis  of  the  castle  was  lifted  and  the  drawbridge  was  let  fall 
with  a  great  noise  and  tumult,  and  straightway  there  issued  forth  from 
out  of  the  castle  a  knight  clad  all  in  armor  and  accoutrements  of  red, 
and  this  knight  came  forward  with  great  speed  toward  the  bridge's  head. 
Then,  when  Sir  Pellias  saw  him  approaching  so  threateningly,  he  said  unto 
those  who  had  followed  him  down  the  hill :  "  Stand  fast  where  ye  are 
and  I  will  go  forth  to  bespeak  this  knight,  and  inquire  into  the  matter  of 
that  injury  which  he  hath  done  unto  Sir  Brandemere."  Upon  this  the 
esquire,  Ponteferet,  said  unto  him,  "  Stay,  Sir  Knight,  thou  wilt  be  hurt." 
But  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  Not  so,  I  shall  not  be  hurt." 

So  he  went  forth  very  boldly  upon  the  bridge,  and  when  the  Red 
Knight  saw  him  approach,  he  said,  "  Ha !  who  art  thou  who  darest  to  come 
thus  upon  my  bridge?" 

Unto  him  Sir  Pellias  made  reply,  "  It  matters  not  who  I  am,  but  thou 
art  to  know,  thou  discourteous  knight,  that  I  am  come  to  inquire  of  thee 
where  thou  hast  disposed  of  that  good  knight  Sir  Brandemere,  and  to  ask 
of  thee  why  thou  didst  entreat  him  so  grievously  a  short  time  since." 

At  this  the  Red  Knight  fell  very  full  of  wrath.  "Ha!  ha!"  he  cried 
vehemently,  "  that  thou  shalt  presently  learn  to  thy  great  sorrow,  for  as  I 
have  served  him,  so  shall  I  quickly  serve  thee,  so  that  in  a  little  while  I 
shall  bring  thee  unto  him  ;  then  thou  mayst  ask  him  whatsoever  thou  dost 
list.  But  seeing  that  thou  art  unarmed  and  without  defence,  I  would  not 
do  thee  any  bodily  ill,  wherefore  I  demand  of  thee  that  thou  shalt  presently 


22O 


THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 


surrender  thyself  unto  me,  otherwise  it  will  be  very  greatly  to  thy  pain 
and  sorrow  if  thou  compellest  me  to  use  force  for  to  constrain  thy  sur- 
render." 

Then  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  What !  what !  Wouldst  thou  thus  assail  a  knight 
who  is  altogether  without  arms  or  defence  as  I  am?"  And  the  Red 
Knight  said,  "  Assuredly  shall  I  do  so  if  thou  dost  not  immediately  yield 
thyself  unto  me." 

"  Then,"  quoth  Pellias,  "  thou  art  not  fit  for  to  be  dealt  with  as  be- 
seemeth  a  tried  knight.  Wherefore,  should  I  encounter  thee,  thy  over- 
throw must  be  of  such  a  sort  as  may  shame  any  belted  knight  who 
weareth  golden  spurs." 

Thereupon  he  cast  about  his  eyes  for  a  weapon  to  fit  his  purpose,  and 
he  beheld  how  that  a  certain  huge  stone  was  loose  upon  the  coping  of  the 
bridge.  Now  this  stone  was  of  such  a  size  that  five  men  of  usual  strength 
could  hardly  lift  it.  But  Sir  Pellias  lifted  it  forth  from  its  place  with  great 
ease,  and,  raising  it  with  both  hands,  he  ran  quickly  toward  that  Red 
Knight  and  flung  the  rock  at  him  with  much  force.  And  the  stone 
smote  the  Red  Knight  upon  the  middle  of  the  shield  and  drave 
^rwliktJuRed  ^  back  upon  his  breast,  with  great  violence.  And  the  force 
Knight  with  a  of  the  blow  drave  the  knight  backward  from  his  saddle,  so 
s™  that  he  fell  down  to  the  earth  from  his  horse  with  a  terrible 

tumult  and  lay  upon  the  bridgeway  like  one  who  was  altogether  dead. 

And  when  they  within  the  castle  who  looked  forth  therefrom,  saw  that 
blow,  and  when  they  beheld  the  overthrow  of  the  Red  Knight,  they  lifted 
up  their  voices  in  great  lamentation  so  that  the  outcry  thereof  was  terrible 
to  hear. 

But  Sir  Pellias  ran  with  all  speed  to  the  fallen  knight  and  set  his  knee 
upon  his  breast.  And  he  unlaced  his  helmet  and  lifted  it.  And  he  beheld 
that  the  face  of  the  knight  was  strong  and  comely  and  that  he  was  not 
altogether  dead. 

So  when  Sir  Pellias  saw  that  the  Red  Knight  was  not  dead,  and  when 
he  perceived  that  he  was  about  to  recover  his  breath  from  the  blow  that 
he  had  suffered,  he  drew  that  knight's  misericordia  from  its  sheath  and  set 
the  point  to  his  throat,  so  that  when  the  Red  Knight  awoke  from  his 
swoon  he  beheld  death,  in  the  countenance  of  Sir  Pellias  and  in  the  point 
of  the  dagger. 

So  when  the  Red  Knight  perceived  how  near  death  was  to  him  he  be- 
sought Sir  Pellias  for  mercy,  saying,  "  Spare  my  life  unto  me  ! "  Where- 
unto  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  Who  art  thou  ? "  And  the  knight  said,  "  I  am 
hight  Sir  Adresack,  surnamed  of  the  Seven  Towers."  Then  Sir  Pellias  said 


PELLIAS   TAKES  SIR  ADRESACK'S  ARMOR  221 

to  him,  "  What  hast  thou  done  unto  Sir  Brandemere  and  how  doth  it  fare 
with  that  good  knight?"  And  the  Red  Knight  replied,  "He  is  not  so 
seriously  wounded  as  you  suppose." 

Now  when  Sir  Brandemere's  lady  heard  this  speech  she  was  greatly 
exalted  with  joy,  so  that  she  smote  her  hands  together,  making  great  cry 
of  thanksgiving. 

But  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  Now  tell  me,  Sir  Adresack,  hast  thou  other  cap- 
tives beside  that  knight,  Sir  Brandemere,  at  thy  castle?"  To  which  Sir 
Adresack  replied,  "  Sir  Knight,  I  will  tell  thee  truly  ;  there  are  in  my  castle 
one  and  twenty  other  captives  besides  him :  to  wit,  eighteen  knights  and 
esquires  of  degree  and  three  ladies.  For  I  have  defended  this  bridge  for 
a  long  time  and  all  who  have  undertaken  to  cross  it,  those  have  I  taken 
captive  and  held  for  ransom.  Wherefore  I  have  taken  great  wealth  and 
gained  great  estate  thereby." 

Then  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  Thou  art  soothly  a  wicked  and   discourteous 
knight  so  to  serve  travellers  that  come  thy  way,  and  I  would  do  well  for 
to   slay  thee  where    thou    liest.      But    since    thou    hast    be- 
sought mercy  of  me  I  will  grant  it  unto  thee,  though  I  will  do  his  injunctions 
so  only  with  great  shame  unto  thy  knighthood.     Moreover,  \{  upon  the  fad 
I  spare  to  thee  thy  life  there  are  several  things  which  thou 
must  perform.     First  thou  must  go  unto  Queen  Guinevere  at  Camelot, 
and  there  must  thou  say  unto  her  that  the  knight  who  left  her  unarmed 
hath  taken  thine  armor  from  thee  and  hath  armed  himself  therewith  for  to 
defend  her  honor.      Secondly,  thou  must  confess  thy  faults  unto  King 
Arthur  as  thou  hast  confessed  them  unto  me  and  thou  must  beg  his  par- 
don for  the  same,  craving  that  he,  in  his  mercy,  shall  spare  thy  life  unto 
thee.     These  are  the  things  that  thou  must  perform." 

To  this  Sir  Adresack  said,  "  Very  well,  these  things  do  I  promise  to 
perform  if  thou  wilt  spare  my  life." 

Then  Sir  Pellias  permitted  him  to  arise  and  he  came  and  stood  before 
Sir  Pellias.  And  Sir  Pellias  summoned  the  esquire,  Ponteferet,  unto  him, 
and  he  said,  "  Take  thou  this  knight's  armor  from  off  of  his 

•  i  ,1  j      »»     Sir  Pellias 

body  and  put  it  upon  my  body  as  thou  knowest  how  to  do.     assumes  the 
And  Ponteferet  did  as  Sir  Pellias  bade  him.     For  he  unarmed    %%%j£Sir 
Sir  Adresack  and  he  clothed  Sir   Pellias  in  Sir  Adresack's 
armor,  and  Sir  Adresack  stood  ashamed  before  them  all.     Then  Sir  Pel- 
lias  said  unto  him,  "  Now  take  me  into  thy  castle  that  I  may  there  liberate 
those  captives  that  thou  so  wickedly  holdest  as  prisoners/'     And  Sir  Adre- 
sack said,  "  It  shall  be  done  as  thou  dost  command." 

Thereupon  they  all  went  together  unto  the  castle  and  into  the  castle. 


222  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

which  was  an  exceedingly  stately  place.  And  there  they  beheld  a  great 
many  servants  and  attendants,  and  these  came  at  the  command  of  Sir 
Adresack  and  bowed  themselves  down  before  Sir  Pellias.  Then  Sir  Pel- 
lias  bade  Sir  Adresack  for  to  summon  the  keeper  of  the  dungeon,  and 
Sir  Adresack  did  so.  And  Sir  Pellias  commanded  the  keeper  that  he 
should  conduct  them  unto  the  dungeon,  and  the  keeper  bowed  down 
before  him  in  obedience. 

Now  when  they  had  come  to  that  dungeon  they  beheld  it  to  be  a  very 
lofty  place  and  exceedingly  strong.  And  there  they  found  Sir  Brande. 
mere  and  those  others  of  whom  Sir  Adresack  had  spoken. 

But  when  that  sorrowful  lady  perceived  Sir  Brandemere,  she  ran  unto 
sir  Pellias  ^*m  w^  great  voice  of  rejoicing  and  embraced  him  and  wept 
liberates  the  over  him.  And  he  embraced  her  and  wept  and  altogether 
captives.  forgot  his  hurt  in  the  joy  of  beholding  her  again. 

And  in  the  several  apartments  of  that  part  of  the  castle,  there  were 
in  all  eighteen  knights  and  esquires,  and  three  ladies  besides  Sir  Brande- 
mere. Moreover,  amongst  those  knights  were  two  from  King  Arthur's 
Court:  to  wit,  Sir  Brandiles  and  Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte.  Whereupon 
these  beholding  that  it  was  Sir  Pellias  who  had  liberated  them,  came  to 
him  and  embraced  him  with  great  joy  and  kissed  him  upon  either  cheek. 

And  all  those  who  were  liberated  made  great  rejoicing  and  gave  Sir 
Pellias  such  praise  and  acclaim  that  he  was  greatly  contented  therewith. 

Then  when  Sir  Pellias  beheld  all  those  captives  who  were  in  the  dun- 
geon he  was  very  wroth  with  Sir  Adresack,  wherefore  he  turned  unto  him 
and  said,  "  Begone,  Sir  Knight,  for  to  do  that  penance  which  I  imposed 
upon  thee  to  perform,  for  I  am  very  greatly  displeased  with  thee,  and  fear 
me  lest  I  should  repent  me  of  my  mercy  to  thee." 

Thereupon  Sir  Adresack  turned  him  away  and  he  immediately  departed 
from  that  place.  And  he  called  to  him  his  esquire  and  he  took  him  and 
rode  away  to  Camelot  for  to  do  that  penance  which  he  had  promised  Sir 
Pellias  to  do. 

Then,  after  he  was  gone,  Sir  Pellias  and  those  captives  whom  he  had 
liberated,  went  through  the  divers  parts  of  the  castle.  And  there  they 
found  thirteen  chests  of  gold  and  silver  money  and  four  caskets  of  jewels 
— very  fine  and  of  great  brilliancy — all  of  which  treasure  had  been  paid  in 
ransom  by  those  captives  who  had  aforetime  been  violently  held  prisoners 
at  that  place. 

And  Sir  Pellias  ordained  that  all  those  chests  and  caskets  should  be 
opened,  and  when  those  who  were  there  looked  therein,  the  hearts  of  all 
were  wonderfully  exalted  with  joy  at  the  sight  of  that  great  treasure. 


PELLIAS  REWARDS   THE   CAPTIVES  223 

Then  Sir  Pellias  commanded  that  all  that  treasure  of  gold  and  silver 
should   be   divided   into  nineteen  equal  parts,  and  when  it  had   been  so 
divided,  he  said,  "  Now  let  each  of  you  who  have  been  held  Sir  pemas 
captive  in  this  place,  take  for  his  own  one  part  of  that  treasure  dwideth  the 

e         . ,  1-1111  i  . .  treasures  of  Sir 

as  a  recompense  for  those  sorrows  which  he  hath  endured,  Adrtsack among 
Moreover,  to  each  of  the  ladies  who  had  been  held  as  captives  the  caPtives- 
in  that  place,  he  gave  a  casket  of  jewels,  saying  unto  her,  "  Take  thou  this 
casket  of  jewels  as  a  recompense  for  that  sorrow  which  thou  hast  suffered. 
And  unto  Sir  Brandemere's  lady  he  gave  a  casket  of  the  jewels  for  that 
which  she  had  endured. 

But  then  those  who  were  there  beheld  that  Sir  Pellias  reserved  no  part 
of  that  great  treasure  for  himself,  they  all  cried  out  upon  him  :  "  Sir 
Knight !  Sir  Knight!  How  is  this?  Behold,  thou  hast  set  aside  no  part 
of  this  treasure  for  thyself." 

Then  Sir  Pellias  made  answer :  "  You  are  right,  I  have  not  so.  For  it 
needs  not  that  I  take  any  of  this  gold  and  silver,  or  any  of  these  jewels,  for 
myself.  For,  behold !  ye  have  suffered  much  at  the  hands  of  Sir  Adresack, 
wherefore  ye  should  receive  recompense  therefore,  but  I  have  suffered 
naught  at  his  hands,  wherefore  I  need  no  such  recompense." 

Then  were  they  all  astonished  at  his  generosity  and  gave  him  great 
praise  for  his  largeness  of  heart.  And  all  those  knights  vowed  unto  him 
fidelity  unto  death. 

Then,  when  all  these  things  were  accomplished,  Sir  Brandemere  im- 
plored all  who  were  there  that  they  would  come  with  him  unto  his  castle, 
so  that  they  might  refresh  themselves  with  a  season  of  mirth  Th(  abideat 
and  good  faring.     And  they  all  said  that  they  would  go  with  the  castle  of 
him-,  and  they  did  go.     And  at  the  castle  of  Sir  Brandemere  Sir Brandemere- 
there  was  great  rejoicing  with  feasting  and  jousting  for  three  days. 

And  all  who  were  there  loved  Sir  Pellias  with  an  astonishing  love  be- 
cause of  that  collar  of  emeralds  and  opals  and  of  gold.  Yet  no  one  knew  of 
the  virtue  of  that  collar,  nor  did  Sir  Pellias  know  of  it. 

So  Sir  Pellias  abided  at  that  place  for  three  days.  And  when  the 
fourth  day  was  come  he  arose  betimes  in  the  morning  and  bade  saddle 
his  horse,  and  the  palfrey  of  the  damsel  Parcenet,  and  the  horses  of  their 
pages. 

Then  when  all  those  who  were  there  saw  that  he  was  minded  to  depart, 
they  besought  him  not  to  go,  but  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  Stay  me  not,  for  I 
must  go." 

Then  came  to  him  those  two  knights  of  Arthur's  Court,  Sir  Brandiles 
and  Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte,  and  they  besought  him  that  he  would  let  them 


224 


THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELL1AS 


go  with  him  upon  that  adventure.  And  at  first  Sir  Pellias  forbade  them. 
but  they  besought  him  the  more,  so  that  at  last  he  was  fain  to  say,  "  Ye 
shall  go  with  me." 

So  he  departed  from  that  place  with  his  company,  and  all  those  who 
remained  gave  great  sorrow  that  he  had  gone  away. 


llarcemt  couers  Sk  Pelliasr 


Chapter  Third. 


How  Sir  Pellias  Did  Battle  With  Sir  Engamore,  Otherwise  the 
Knight  of  the  Green  Sleeves,  and  of  What  Befell  the  Lady 
Ettard. 

NOW,  Sir  Pellias  and  his  party  and  the  damsel  Parcenet  and  her 
party  travelled  onward  until  after  awhile  in  the  afternoon  they 
came  unto  the  utmost  boundaries  of  the  forest,  where  the  wood- 
lands  ceased  altogether  and  many  fields  and  meadows,  with  farms  and 
crofts  and  plantations  of  trees  all  a-bloom  with  tender  leaves  and  fragrant 
blossoms,  lay  spread  out  beneath  the  sky. 

And  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  This  is  indeed  a  very  beautiful  land  into  which 
we  have  come."  Whereat  the  damsel  Parcenet  was  right  well  pleased,  for 
she  said,  "  Sir,  1  am  very  glad  that  that  which  thou  seest  belikes  thee  ;  for 
all  this  region  belongeth  unto  the  Lady  Ettard,  and  it  is  my  home.  More- 
over, from  the  top  of  yonder  hill  one  mayst  behold  the  castle  of  Grant- 
mesnle  which  lieth  in  the  valley  beneath."  Then  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  Let 
us  make  haste  !  For  I  am  wonderfully  desirous  of  beholding  that  place." 

So  they  set  spurs  to  their   horses  and   rode   up  that   hill    at   a  hand 
gallop.     And  when  they  had  reached  the  top  thereof,  lo !  be-    They  reach 
neath  them  lay  the  Castle  of  Grantmesnle  in  such  a  wise  that    Grantmesnk. 
it  was  as  though  upon  the  palm  of  a  hand.     And  Sir  Pellias  beheld  that  it 
was  an  exceedingly  fair  castle,  built  altogether  without  of  a  red  stone,  and 
containing  many  buildings  of  red  brick  within  the  wall.    And  behind  the 
walls  there  lay  a  little  town,  and  from  where  they  stood  they  could  behold 
the  streets  thereof,  and  the  people  coming  and  going  upon  their  businesses. 
So  Sir  Pellias,  beholding  the  excellence  of  that  castle,  said,  "  Certes,  maid- 
en, yonder  is  a  very  fair  estate." 

"  Yea,"  said  Parcenet ;  "  we  who  dwell  there  do  hold  it  to  be  a  very  ex- 
cellent estate." 

Then  Sir  Pellias  said  to  Parcenet :  "  Maiden,  yonder  glade  of  young 
trees  nigh  unto  the  castle  appeareth  to  be  a  very  cheerful  spot.  Where- 


228  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

fore  at  that  place  I  and  my  companions  in  arms  will  take  up  our  inn. 
There,  likewise,  we  will  cause  to  be  set  up  three  pavilions  for  to  shelter  us 
by  day  and  by  night.  Meantime,  I  beseech  of  thee,  that  thou  wilt  go  unto 
the  lady,  thy  mistress,  and  say  unto  her  that  a  knight  hath  come  unto  this 
place,  who,  albeit  he  knoweth  her  not,  holdeth  that  the  Lady  Guinevere  of 
Camelot  is  the  fairest  lady  in  all  of  the  world.  And  I  beseech  thee  to  tell 
the  lady  that  I  am  here  to  maintain  that  saying  against  all  comers  at  the 
peril  of  my  body.  Wherefore,  if  the  lady  have  any  champion  for  to  under- 
take battle  in  her  behalf,  him  will  I  meet  in  yonder  field  to-morrow  at  mid- 
day a  little  before  I  eat  my  mid-day  meal.  For  at  that  time  I  do  propose 
for  to  enter  into  yonder  field,  and  to  make  parade  therein  until  my  friends 
bid  me  for  to  come  in  to  my  dinner  ;  and  I  shall  take  my  stand  in  that 
place  in  honor  of  the  Lady  Guinevere  of  Camelot." 

"Sir  Pellias,"  said  the  damsel,  "1  will  even  do  as  thou  desirest  of  me. 
And,  though  I  may  not  wish  that  thou  mayst  be  the  victor  in  that  encoun- 
ter, yet  am  I  soothly  sorry  for  to  depart  from  thee.  For  thou  art  both  a 
very  valiant  and  a  very  gentle  knight,  and  I  find  that  I  have  a  great  friend- 
ship for  thee." 

Then  Sir  Pellias  laughed,  and  he  said,  "  Parcenet,  thou  art  minded  to 
give  me  praise  that  is  far  beyond  my  deserving."  And  Parcenet  said, 
"  Sir,  not  so,  for  thou  dost  deserve  all  that  I  may  say  to  thy  credit." 

Thereupon  they  twain  took  leave  of  one  another  with  very  good  will 
and  much  kindness  of  intention,  and  the  maiden  and  the  three  pages  went 
the  one  way,  and  Sir  Pellias  and  his  two  companions  and  the  several  at- 
tendants they  had  brought  with  them  went  into  the  glade  of  young  trees 
as  Sir  Pellias  had  ordained. 

And  there  they  set  up  three  pavilions  in  the  shade  of  the  trees ;  the  one 
pavilion  of  fair  white  cloth,  the  second  of  green  cloth,  and  the  third  of 
Sir  Pellias  and  scarlet  cloth.  And  over  each  pavilion  they  had  set  a  banner 
his  knights-com-  emblazoned  with  the  device  of  that  knight  unto  whom  the 

pamon  take  up  ... 

their  inn  in  a  pavilion  appertained :  above  the  white  pavilion  was  the 
glade  of  trees,  device  of  Sir  Pellias :  to  wit,  three  swans  displayed  upon  a 
field  argent;  above  the  red  pavilion,  which  was  the  pavilion  of  Sir  Bran- 
diles,  was  a  red  banner  emblazoned  with  his  device :  to-wit,  a  mailed  hand 
holding  in  its  grasp  a  hammer;  above  the  green  pavilion,  which  was  that 
of  Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte,  was  a  green  banner  bearing  his  device,  which 
was  that  of  a  carrion  crow  holding  in  one  hand  a  white  lily  flower  and  in 
the  other  a  sword. 

So  when  the  next  day  had  come,  and  when  mid-day  was  nigh  at  hand, 
Sir  Pellias  went  forth  into  that  field  before  the  castle  as  he  had  promised 


SIX  PELLIAS  ENCOUNTERS   THE   GREEN  KNIGHT          229 

to  do,  and  he  was  clad  all  from  head  to  foot  in  the  red  armor  which  he  had 
taken  from  the  body  of  Sir  Adresack,  so  that  in  that  armor  he  presented 
a  very  terrible  appearance.  So  he  rode  up  and  down  before  the  castle 
walls  for  a  considerable  while  crying  in  a  loud  voice,  "  What  ho!  What 
ho !  Here  stands  a  knight  of  King  Arthur's  Court  and  of  his  Round 
Table  who  doth  affirm,  and  is  ready  to  maintain  the  same  sir Peuias issues 
with  his  body,  that  the  Lady  Guinevere,  King  Arthur's  Queen  challenge  to  Sir 
of  Camelot,  is  the  most  beautiful  lady  in  all  of  the  vror\d,£n*amore' 
barring  none  whomsoever.  Wherefore,  if  any  knight  maintaineth  other- 
wise, let  him  straightway  come  forth  for  to  defend  his  opinion  with  his 
body." 

Now  after  Sir  Pellias  had  thus  appeared  in  that  meadow  there  fell  a 
great  commotion  within  the  castle,  and  many  people  came  upon  the  walls 
thereof  and  gazed  down  upon  Sir  Pellias  where  he  paraded  that  field. 
And  after  a  time  had  passed,  the  drawbridge  of  the  castle  was  let  fall,  and 
there  issued  forth  a  knight,  very  huge  of  frame  and  exceedingly  haughty 
of  demeanor.  This  knight  was  clad  altogether  from  head  to  foot  in  green 
armor,  and  upon  either  arm  he  wore  a  green  sleeve,  whence  he  was 
sometimes  entitled  the  Knight  of  the  Green  Sleeves. 

So  that  Green  Knight  rode  forward  toward  Sir  Pellias,  and  Sir  Pellias 
rode  forward  unto  the  Green  Knight,  and  when  they  had  come  together 
they  gave  salute  with  a  great  deal  of  civility  and  knightly  courtesy. 
Then  the  Green  Knight  said  unto  Sir  Pellias,  "  Sir  Knight,  wilt  thou  allow 
unto  me  the  great  favor  for  to  know  thy  name  ?  " 

Whereunto  Sir  Pellias  made  reply,  "  That  will  I  so.  I  am  Sir  Pellias,  a 
knight  of  King  Arthur's  Court  and  of  his  Round  Table." 

Then  the  Green  Knight  made  reply,  "  Ha,  Sir  Pellias,  it  is  a  great  honor 
for  me  to  have  to  do  with  so  famous  a  knight,  for  who  is  there  in  Courts 
of  Chivalry  who  hath  not  heard  of  thee?  Now,  if  I  have  the  good  fortune 
for  to  overthrow  thee,  then  will  all  thy  honor  become  my  honor.  Now,  in 
return  for  thy  courtesy  for  making  proclamation  of  thy  name,  I  give  unto 
thee  my  name  and  title,  which  is  Sir  Engamore  of  Malverat,  further  known 
as  the  Knight  of  the  Green  Sleeves.  And  I  may  furthermore  tell  thee 
that  I  am  the  champion  unto  the  Lady  Ettard  of  Grantmesnle,  and  that  ] 
have  defended  her  credit  unto  peerless  beauty  for  eleven  months,  and  that 
against  all  comers,  wherefore  if  I  do  successfully  defend  it  for  one  month 
longer,  then  do  I  become  lord  of  her  hand  and  of  all  this  fair  estate.  So  I 
am  prepared  to  do  the  uttermost  in  my  power  in  her  honor." 

Then  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  Sir  Knight,  I  give  thee  gramercy  for  thy  words 
of  greeting,  and  I  too  will  do  my  uttermost  in  this  encounter."  There- 


23o  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

upon  each  knight  saluted  each  other  with  his  lance,  and  each  rode  to  his 
appointed  station. 

Now  a  great  concourse  of  people  had  come  down  to  the  lower  walls  of 
the  castle  and  of  the  town  for  to  behold  the  contest  of  arms  that  was 
toward,  wherefore  it  would  be  hard  to  imagine  a  more  worthy  occasion 
where  knights  might  meet  in  a  glorious  contest  of  friendly  jousting, 
wherefore  each  knight  prepared  himself  in  all  ways,  and  dressed  him  his 
spear  and  his  lance  with  great  care  and  circumspection.  So  when  all  had 
been  prepared  for  that  encounter,  an  herald,  who  had  come  forth  from  the 
castle  into  the  field,  give  the  signal  for  assault.  Thereupon  in  an  instant, 
each  knight  drave  spurs  into  his  horse  and  rushed  the  one  against  the 
other,  with  such  terrible  speed  that  the  ground  shook  and  trembled 
beneath  the  beating  of  their  horses'  feet.  So  they  met  exactly  in  the 
centre  of  the  field  of  battle,  the  one  knight  smiting  the  other  in  the  midst 
.  of  his  defences  with  a  violence  that  was  very  terrible  to 

throws  Sir  En-  behold.  And  the  spear  of  Sir  Engamore  burst  into  as  many 
gamore.  ^s  ^i^y  pieces,  but  the  spear  of  Sir  Pellias  held  so  that  the 

Green  Knight  was  hurtled  so  violently  from  out  of  his  saddle  that  he  smote 
the  earth  above  a  spear's  length  behind  the  crupper  of  his  horse. 

Now  when  those  who  had  stood  upon  the  walls  beheld  how  entirely  the 
Green  Knight  was  overthrown  in  the  encounter,  they  lifted  up  their  voices 
in  great  outcry ;  for  there  was  no  other  such  knight  as  Sir  Engamore  in 
all  those  parts.  And  more  especially  did  the  Lady  Ettard  make  great 
outcry  ;  for  Sir  Engamore  was  very  much  beloved  by  her  ;  wherefore, 
seeing  him  so  violently  flung  down  upon  the  ground,  she  deemed  that 
perhaps  he  had  been  slain. 

Then  three  esquires  ran  to  Sir  Engamore  and  lifted  him  up  and  unlaced 
his  helm  for  to  give  him  air.  And  they  beheld  that  he  was  not  slain,  but 
only  in  a  deep  swoon.  So  by  and  by  he  opened  his  eyes,  and  at  that  Sir 
Pellias  was  right  glad,  for  it  would  have  grieved  him  had  he  slain  that 
knight.  Now  when  Sir  Engamore  came  back  unto  his  senses  once  more, 
he  demanded  with  great  vehemence  that  he  might  continue  that  contest 
with  Sir  Pellias  afoot  and  with  swords.  But  Sir  Pellias  would  not  have 
it  so.  "  Nay,  Sir  Engamore,"  quoth  he,  "  I  will  not  fight  thee  so  serious  a 
quarrel  as  that,  for  I  have  no  such  despite  against  thee."  And  at  that  de- 
nial Sir  Engamore  fell  a  weeping  from  pure  vexation  and  shame  of  his 
entire  overthrow. 

Then  came  Sir  Brandiles  and  Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte  and  gave  Sir  Pellias 
great  acclaim  for  the  excellent  manner  in  which  he  had  borne  himself  in  the 
encounter,  and  at  the  same  time  they  offered  consolation  unto  Sir  Enga- 


THE  LADY  ETTARD   ENTERTAINS   SIR  PELLIAS  231 

more  and  comforted  him  for  the  misfortune  that  had  befallen  him.     But 
Sir  Engamore  would  take  but  little  comfort  in  their  words. 

Now  whiles  they  thus  stood  all  together,  there  issued  out  from  the  castle 
the  Lady  Ettard  and  an  exceedingly  gay  and  comely  Court  of  esquires  and 
ladies,  and  these  came  across  the  meadow  toward  where  Sir  Pellias  and 
the  others  stood. 

Then  when  Sir  Pellias  beheld  that  lady  approach,  he  drew  his  miseri- 
cordia  and  cut  the  thongs  of  his  helmet,  and  took  the  helmet  off  of  his 
head,  and  thus  he  went  forward,  bareheaded,  for  to  meet  her. 

But  when  he  had  come  nigh  to  her  he  beheld  that  she  was  many  times 
more  beautiful  than  that  image  of  her  painted  upon  the  ivory  panel  which 
he  had  aforetime  beheld,  wherefore  his  heart  went  forth  unto  her  with  a 
very  great  strength  of  liking.  So  therewith  he  kneeled  down  sirPellias  reeis 
upon  the  grass  and  set  his  hands  together  palm  to  palm,  the  Lady  '/ttard 
before  her,  and  he  said  :  "  Lady,  I  do  very  greatly  crave  thy  *"*•"**'•*'• 
forgiveness  that  I  should  thus  have  done  battle  against  thy  credit.  For, 
excepting  that  I  did  that  endeavor  for  my  Queen,  I  would  rather,  in 
another  case,  have  been  thy  champion  than  that  of  any  lady  whom  I  have 
ever  beheld." 

Now  at  that  time  Sir  Pellias  wore  about  his  neck  the  collar  of  emeralds 
and  opal  stones  and  gold  which  the  Lady  of  the  Lake  had  given  to  him. 
Wherefore,  when  the  Lady  Ettard  looked  upon  him,  that  necklace  drew  her 
heart  unto  him  with  very  great  enchantment.  Wherefore  she  smiled  upon 
Sir  Pellias  very  cheerfully  and  gave  him  her  hand  and  caused  him  to  arise 
from  that  place  where  he  kneeled.  And  she  said  to  him,  "Sir  Knight, 
thou  art  a  very  famous  warrior ;  for  I  suppose  there  is  not  anybody  who 
knoweth  aught  of  chivalry  but  hath  heard  of  the  fame  of  Sir  Pellias,  the 
Gentle  Knight.  Wherefore,  though  my  champion  Sir  Engamore  of  Mal- 
verat  hath  heretofore  overthrown  all  comers,  yet  he  need  not  feel  very 
much  ashamed  to  have  been  overthrown  by  so  terribly  strong  a  knight." 

Then  Sir  Pellias  was  very  glad  of  the  kind  words   which  the  Lady 
Ettard  spake  unto  him,  and  therewith  he  made  her  known  unto  Sir  Bran- 
diles  and  Sir   Mador  de  la  Porte.     Unto  these  knights  also,  the  Lady 
Ettard  spake  very  graciously,  being   moved  thereto  by  the  sir  Pellias 
extraordinary  regard  she  felt  toward  Sir  Pellias.     So  she  be-  and  his 
sought  those  knights  that  they  would  come  into  the  castle ^nfon'gTto the 
and  refresh  themselves,  with  good  cheer,  and  with  that,  the  c™et£l°/ Grant~ 
knights  said  that  they  would  presently  do   so.      Wherefore  m 
they  returned  each  knight  unto  his  pavilion,  and  there  each  bedight  him- 
self with  fine  raiment  and  with  ornaments  of  gold  and  silver  in  such  a 


232  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

fashion  that  he  was  noble  company  for  any  Court  Then  those  three 
knights  betook  themselves  unto  the  castle  of  Grantmesnle,  and  when  they 
had  come  thither  everybody  was  astonished  at  the  nobility  of  their 
aspect. 

But  Sir  Engamore,  who  had  by  now  recovered  from  his  fall,  was  greatly 
cast  down,  for  he  said  unto  himself,  "  Who  am  I  in  the  presence  of  these 
noble  lords?"  So  he  stood  aside  and  was  very  downcast  of  heart  and 
oppressed  in  his  spirits. 

Then  the  Lady  Ettard  set  a  very  fine  feast  and  Sir  Pellias  and  Sir  Bran- 
diles  and  Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte  were  exceedingly  glad  thereof.  And 
upon  her  right  hand  she  placed  Sir  Pellias,  and  upon  her  left  hand  she 
placed  Sir  Engamore.  And  Sir  Engamore  was  still  more  cast  down, 
for,  until  now,  he  had  always  sat  upon  the  right  hand  of  the  Lady  Et- 
tard. 

Now  because  Sir  Pellias  wore  that  wonderful  collar  which  the  Lady  of 
the  Lake  had  given  unto  him,  the  Lady  Ettard  could  not  keep  her  regard 
from  him.  So  after  they  had  refreshed  themselves  and  had  gone  forth 
into  the  castle  pleasaunce  for  to  walk  in  the  warm  sunshine,  the  lady  would 
have  Sir  Pellias  continually  beside  her.  And  when  it  came  time  for  those 
foreign  knights  to  quit  the  castle,  she  besought  Sir  Pellias  that  he  would 
stay  a  while  longer.  Now  Sir  Pellias  was  very  glad  to  do  that,  for  he  was 
pleased  beyond  measure  with  the  graciousness  and  the  beauty  of  the  Lady 
Ettard. 

So  by  and  by  Sir  Brandiles  and  Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte  went  back  unto 
their  pavilions,  and  Sir  Pellias  remained  in  the  castle  of  Grantmesnle  for  a 
while  longer. 

Now  that  night  the  Lady  Ettard  let  to  be  made  a  supper  for  herself  and 
Sir  Pellias,  and  at  that  supper  she  and  Sir  Pellias  alone  sat  at  the  table, 
Sir  Pellias  and  anc*  t^ie  damsel  Parcenet  waited  in  attendance  upon  the  lady. 
the  Lady  Ettard  Whiles  they  ate,  certain  young  pages  and  esquires  played 
fea  ier'  very  sweetly  upon  harps,  and  certain  maidens  who  were 
attendant  upon  the  Cor.rt  of  the  lady  sang  so  sweetly  that  it  expanded 
the  heart  of  the  listener  to  hear  them.  And  Sir  Pellias  was  so  enchanted 
with  the  sweetness  of  the  music,  and  with  the  beauty  of  the  Lady  Ettard, 
that  he  wist  not  whether  he  were  indeed  upon  the  earth  or  in  Paradise, 
wherefore,  because  of  his  great  pleasure,  he  said  unto  the  Lady  Ettard, 
"  Lady,  I  would  that  I  might  do  somewhat  for  thee  to  show  unto  thee  how 
high  is  the  regard  and  the  honor  in  which  I  hold  thee." 

Now  as  Sir  Pellias  sat  beside  her,  the  Lady  Ettard  had  continually  held 
in  observation  that  wonderful  collar  of  gold  and  of  emerald  and  of  opal 


PELLIAS  REMOVES  HIS  NECKLACE  233 

stones  which  hung  about  his  neck ;  and  she  coveted  that  collar  exceed- 
ingly. Wherefore,  she  now  said  unto  Sir  Pellias,  "  Sir  Knight,  thou 
mayst  indeed  do  me  great  favor  if  thou  hast  a  mind  for  to  do  so."  "  What 
favor  may  I  do  thee,  Lady  ?"  said  Sir  Pellias.  "  Sir,"  said  the  Lady  Ettard, 
"thou  mayst  give  unto  me  that  collar  which  hangeth  about  thy  neck." 

At  this  the  countenance  of  Sir  Pellias  fell,  and  he  said, "  Lady,  I  may  not 
do  that ;  for  that  collar  came  unto  me  in  such  an  extraordinary  fashion 
that  I  may  not  part  it  from  me." 

Then  the  Lady  Ettard  said,  "  Why  mayst  thou  not  part  it  from  thee  Sir 
Pellias?" 

Thereupon  Sir  Pellias  told  her  all  of  that  extraordinary  adventure  with 
the  Lady  of  the  Lake,  and  of  how  that  fairy  lady  had  given  the  collar 
unto  him. 

At  this  the  Lady  Ettard  was  greatly  astonished,  and  she  said,  "  Sir  Pel- 
lias,  that  is  a  very  wonderful  story.  Ne'theless,  though  thou  mayst  not 
give  that  collar  unto  me,  yet  thou  mayst  let  me  wear  it  for  a  little  while. 
For  indeed  I  am  charmed  by  the  beauty  of  that  collar  beyond  all  manner 
of  liking,  wherefore  I  do  beseech  thee  for  to  let  me  wear  it  for  a  little." 

Then  Sir  Pellias  could  refuse  her  no  longer,  so  he  said,  "  Lady,  thou 
shalt  have  it  to  wear  for  a  while."  Thereupon  he  took  the  _ 

.  Sir  Pellias  lets 

collar  from  off  of  his  neck,  and  he  hung  it  about  the  neck  of  the  Lady  Ettard 

the  Lady  Ettard.  wear  the  collar. 

Then,  after  a  little  time  the  virtue  of  that  jewel  departed  from  Sir  Pellias 
and  entered  into  the  Lady  Ettard,  and  the  Lady  Ettard  looked  upon  Sir 
Pellias  with  altogether  different  eyes  than  those  with  which  she  had  before 
regarded  him.  Wherefore  she  said  unto  herself :  "  Hah  !  what  ailed  me 
that  I  should  have  been  so  enchanted  with  that  knight  to  the  discredit  of 
my  champion  who  hath  served  me  so  faithfully?  Hath  not  this  knight 
done  me  grievous  discredit?  Hath  he  not  come  hitherward  for  no  other 
reason  than  for  that  purpose  ?  Hath  he  not  overthrown  mine  own  true 
knight  in  scorn  of  me  ?  What  then  hath  ailed  me  that  I  should  have  given 
him  such  regard  as  I  have  bestowed  upon  him  ?  "  But  though  she  thought 
all  this,  yet  she  made  no  sign  thereof  unto  Sir  Pellias,  but  appeared  to 
laugh  and  talk  very  cheerfully.  Nevertheless,  she  immediately  began  to 
cast  about  in  her  mind  for  some  means  whereby  she  might  be  revenged 
upon  Sir  Pellias  ;  for  she  said  unto  herself,  "  Lo  !  is  he  not  mine  enemy  and 
is  not  mine  enemy  now  in  my  power?  Wherefore  should  I  not  take  full 
measure  of  revenge  upon  him  for  all  that  which  he  hath  done  unto  us  .of 
Grantmesnle  ?  " 

So  by  and  by  she  made  an  excuse  and  arose  and  left  Sir  Pellias.     And 


234  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

she  took  Parcenet  aside,  and  she  said  unto  the  damsel  Parcenet,  "Go 
and  fetch  me  hither  presently  a  powerful  sleeping-draught." 
Then  Parcenet  said,  "  Lady,  what  would  you  do?"  And  the 
plans  against  Lady  Ettard  said,  "  No  matter."  And  Parcenet  said,  "  Would 
you  give  unto  that  noble  knight  a  sleeping-draught?"  And 
the  lady  said,  "  I  would."  Then  Parcenet  said,  "  Lady,  that  would  surely 
be  an  ill  thing  to  do  unto  one  who  sitteth  in  peace  at  your  table  and  eateth 
of  your  salt."  Whereunto  the  Lady  Ettard  said,  "  Take  thou  no  care  as 
to  that,  girl,  but  go  thou  straightway  and  do  as  I  bid  thee." 

Then  Parcenet  saw  that  it  was  not  wise  for  her  to  disobey  the  lady. 
Wherefore  she  went  straightway  and  did  as  she  was  bidden.  So  she 
brought  the  sleeping-draught  to  the  lady  in  a  chalice  of  pure  wine,  and 
the  Lady  Ettard  took  the  chalice  and  said  to  Sir  Pellias, "  Take  thou  this 
chalice  of  wine,  Sir  Knight,  and  drink  it  unto  me  according  to  the  meas- 
ure of  that  good  will  thou  hast  unto  me."  Now  Parcenet  stood  behind 
her  lady's  chair,  and  when  Sir  Pellias  took  the  chalice  she  frowned  and 
shook  her  head  at  him.  But  Sir  Pellias  saw  it  not,  for  he  was  intoxicated 
with  the  beauty  of  the  Lady  Ettard,  and  with  the  enchantment  of  the 
collar  of  emeralds  and  opal  stones  and  gold  which  she  now  wore.  Where- 
fore he  said  unto  her,  "  Lady,  if  there  were  poison  in  that  chalice,  yet 
would  I  drink  of  the  wine  that  is  in  it  at  thy  command." 

At  that  the  Lady  Ettard  fell  a-laughing  beyond  measure,  and  she  said, 
"  Sir  Knight,  there  is  no  poison  in  that  cup." 

So  Sir  Pellias  took  the  chalice  and  drank  the  wine,  and  he  said,  "  Lady> 
how  is  this?  The  wine  is  bitter."  To  which  the  Lady  Ettard  made 
reply,  "  Sir,  that  cannot  be." 

Then  in  a  little  while  Sir  Pellias  his  head  waxed  exceedingly  heavy  as  if 
it  were  of  lead,  wherefore  he  bowed  his  head  upon  the  table  where  he  sat. 
Sir  Pellias  That  while  the  Lady  Ettard  remained  watching  him  very 
sieepeth.  strangely,  and  by  and  by  she  said,  "  Sir  Knight,  dost  thou 

sleep  ?  "  To  the  which  Sir  Pellias  replied  not,  for  the  fumes  of  the  sleep- 
ing-draught had  ascended  into  his  brains  and  he  slept 

Then  the  Lady  Ettard  arose  laughing,  and  she  smote  her  hands  together 
and  summoned  her  attendants.  And  she  said  to  them,  "  Take  this  knight 
away,  and  convey  him  into  an  inner  apartment,  and  when  ye  have 
brought  him  thither,  strip  him  of  his  gay  clothes  and  of  his  ornaments  so 
that  only  his  undergarments  shall  remain  upon  him.  And  when  ye  have 
done  that,  lay  him  upon  a  pallet  and  convey  him  out  of  the  castle  and  into 
that  meadow  beneath  the  walls  where  he  overthrew  Sir  Engamore,  so  that 
when  the  morning  shall  arise  he  shall  become  a  mock  and  a  jest  unto  all 


PARCENET  AIDS   SIR  PELLIAS  335 

who  shall  behold  him.  Thus  shall  we  humiliate  him  in  that  same  field 
wherein  he  overthrew  Sir  Engamore,  and  his  humiliation  shall  be  greater 
than  the  humiliation  of  Sir  Engamore  hath  been." 

Now  when  the  damsel  Parcenet  heard  this  she  was  greatly  afflicted,  so 
that  she  withdrew  herself  apart  and  wept  for  Sir  Pellias.  But  the  others 
took  Sir  Pellias  and  did  unto  him  as  the  Lady  Ettard  had  commanded. 

Now  when  the  next  morning  had  come,  Sir  Pellias  awoke  with  the  sun 
shining  into  his  face.  And  he  wist  not  at  all  where  he  was,  for  his  brains 
were  befogged  by  the  sleeping-draught  which  he  had  taken.  So  he  said 
unto  himself,  "  Am  I  dreaming,  or  am  I  awake  ?  for  certes,  the  last  that  I 
remember  was  that  I  sat  at  supper  with  the  Lady  Ettard,  yet  here  I  am 
now  in  an  open  field  with  the  sun  shining  upon  me." 

So  he  raised  himself  upon  his  elbow,  and  behold  !  he  lay  beneath  the 
castle  walls  nigh  to  the  postern  gate.  And  above  him,  upon  the  top  of 
the  wall,  was  a  great  concourse  of  people,  who,  when  they  beheld  that  he 
was  awake,  laughed  at  him  and  mocked  at  him.  And  the  Lady  Ettard 
also  gazed  down  at  him  from  a  window  and  he  saw  that  she  laughed  at 
him  and  made  herself  merry.  And  lo  !  he  beheld  that  he  lay  there  clad 
only  in  his  linen  undervestment,  and  that  he  was  in  his  bare  feet  as  though 
he  were  prepared  to  sleep  at  night.  So  he  sat  upon  the  cot,  saying  unto 
himself,  "  Certainly  this  must  be  some  shameful  dream  that  oppresses  me." 
Nor  was  he  at  all  able  to  recover  from  his  bewilderment. 

Now,  as  he  sat  thus,  the  postern  gate  was  opened  of  a  sudden,  and  the 
damsel   Parcenet  came  out   thence.      And    her  face  was  all 
be-wet  with  tears,  and  she  bare  in  her  hand  a  flame-colored  parcenet  brin- 


mantle.  Straightway  she  ran  to  Sir  Pellias,  and  said,  "  Thou  '££%"  to  sir 
good  and  gentle  knight,  take  thou  this  and  wrap  thyself  in  it." 

Upon  this  Sir  Pellias  wist  that  this  was  no  dream,  but  a  truth  of  great 
shame  ;  wherefore  he  was  possessed  with  an  extreme  agony  of  shame,  so 
that  he  fell  to  trembling,  whilst  his  teeth  chattered  as  though  with  an 
ague.  Then  he  said  to  Parcenet,  "  Maiden,  I  thank  thee."  And  he  could 
find  no  more  words  to  say.  So  he  took  the  mantle  and  wrapped  himself  in  it. 

Now  when  the  people  upon  the  walls  beheld  what  Parcenet  had  done, 
they  hooted  her  and  reviled  her  with  many  words  of  ill-regard.  So  the 
maiden  ran  back  again  into  the  castle,  but  Sir  Pellias  arose  and  went  his 
way  toward  his  pavilion  wrapped  in  that  mantle.  And  as  he  went  he 
staggered  and  tottered  like  a  drunken  man,  for  a  great  burden  of  shame 
lay  upon  him  almost  more  than  he  could  carry. 

So  when  Sir  Pellias  had  reached  his  pavilion,  he  entered  it  and  threw 
himself  on  his  face  upon  his  couch  and  lay  there  without  saying  anything. 


236  THE    STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

And  by  and  by  Sir  Brandiles  and  Mador  de  la  Porte  heard  of  that  plight 

into  which  Sir  Pellias  had  fallen,  and  thereupon  they  hastened  to  where  he 

lay  and  made  much  sorrow  over  him.     Likewise,  they  were 

fake*thllgreat       exceedingly  wroth  at  the  shame  that  had  been  put  upon  him  ; 

grief  because  of  wherefore  they  said,  "  We  will  get  us  aid  from  Camelot,  and 

we  will  burst  open  yonder  castle  and  we  will  fetch  the  Lady 

Ettard  hither  to  crave  thy  pardon  for  this  affront.     This  we  will  do  even 

if  we  have  to  drag  her  hither  by  the  hair  of  her  head." 

But  Sir  Pellias  lifted  not  his  head,  only  he  groaned  and  he  said,  "  Let 
be,  Messires  ;  for  under  no  circumstance  shall  ye  do  that  thing,  she  being 
a  woman.  As  it  is,  I  would  defend  her  honor  even  though  I  died  in  that 
defence.  For  I  know  not  whether  I  am  bewitched  or  what  it  is  that  ails 
me,  but  I  love  her  with  a  very  great  passion  and  I  cannot  tear  my  heart 
away  from  her." 

At  this  Sir  Brandiles  and  Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte  were  greatly  astonished, 
wherefore  they  said  the  one  to  the  other,  "  Certes,  that  lady  hath  laid  some 
powerful  spell  upon  him." 

Then  after  a  while  Sir  Pellias  bade  them  go  away  and  leave  him,  and 
they  did  so,  though  not  with  any  very  good  will. 

So  Sir  Pellias  lay  there  for  all  that  day  until  the  afternoon  had  come. 
Then  he  aroused  himself  and  bade  his  esquire  for  to  bring  him  his  armor. 
Now  when  Sir  Brandiles  and  Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte  heard  news  of  this  they 
went  to  where  he  was  and  said,  "  Sir,  what  have  ye  a  mind  to  do?  "  To 
this  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  I  am  going  to  try  to  win  me  unto  the  Lady  Ettard's 
presence."  Then  they  said,  "  What  madness  is  this  ?  "  "I  know  not," 
said  Sir  Pellias,  "  but,  meseems,  that  if  I  do  not  behold  the  Lady  Ettard 
and  talk  with  her  I  shall  surely  die  of  longing  to  see  her."  And  they  say, 
"  Certes,  this  is  madness."  Whereunto  he  replied,  "  I  know  not  whether 
it  is  madness  or  whether  I  am  caught  in  some  enchantment." 

So  the  esquire  fetched  unto  Sir  Pellias  his  armor  as  he  had  commanded, 
and  he  clad  Sir  Pellias  in  it  so  that  he  was  altogether  armed  from  head  to 
foot.  Thereupon  straightway  Sir  Pellias  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  out 
toward  the  castle  of  Grantmesnle. 

Now  when  the  Lady  Ettard  beheld  Sir  Pellias  again  parading  the 
meadow  below  the  castle,  she  called  unto  her  six  of  her  best  knights,  and 
she  said  unto  them,  "  Behold,  Messires,  yonder  is  that  knight  who  brought 
so  much  shame  upon  us  yesterday.  Now  I  bid  ye  for  to  go  forth  against 
him  and  to  punish  him  as  he  deserveth." 

So  those  six  knights  went  and  armed  themselves,  and  when  they  had 
done  so  they  straightway  rode  forth  against  Sir  Pellias. 


S7JS   PELLIAS  SUFFERS   SHAME  237 

Now,  when  Sir  Pellias  beheld  these  approach,  his  heart  overflowed  with 
fury  and  he  shouted  in  a  great  voice  and  drave  forward  against  them. 
And  for  a  while  they  withstood  him,  but 'he  was  not  to  be    sir  Pellias 
withstood,  but  fought  with   surpassing  fury,  wherefore  they    overcometh  six 
presently  brake  from   before  him  and  fled.     So  he  pursued     ™s  **' 
them  with  great  fury  about  that  field  and  smote  four  of  them  down  from 
their  horses.     Then,  when  there  were  but  two  of  those  knights  remaining, 
Sir  Pellias  of  a  sudden  ceased  to  fight,  and  he  cried  out  unto  those  two 
knights,  "  Messires,  I  surrender  myself  unto  ye." 

Now  at  that  those  two  knights  were  greatly  astonished,  for  they  were 
entirely  filled  with  the  fear  of  his  strength,  and  wist  not  why  he  should 
yield  to  them.    Nevertheless  they  came  and  laid  hands  upon  him  and  took 
him  toward  the  castle.     Upon  this  Sir  Pellias  said  unto  himself,  "  Now 
they  will  bring  me  unto  the  Lady  Ettard,  and  I  shall  have    _.  p  /&. 
speech  with  her."     For  it  was  for  this  that  he  had  suffered  yields  himself 
himself  to  be  taken  by  those  two  knights.  prisoner. 

But  it  was  not  to  be  as  Sir  Pellias  willed  it.  For  when  they  had  brought 
him  close  under  the  castle,  the  Lady  Ettard  called  unto  them  from  a 
window  in  the  wall.  And  she  said,  "What  do  you  with  that  knight?" 
They  say,  "  We  bring  him  to  you,  Lady."  Upon  this  she  cried  out  very 
vehemently,  "  Bring  him  not  to  me,  but  take  him  and  tie  his  hands  behind 
his  back  and  tie  his  feet  beneath  his  horse's  belly,  and  send  him  back  unto 
his  companions." 

Then  Sir  Pellias  lifted  up  his  eyes  unto  that  window  and  he  cried  out  in 
a  great  passion  of  despair,  "  Lady,  it  was  unto  thee  I  surrendered,  and  not 
unto  these  unworthy  knights." 

But  the  Lady  Ettard  cried  out  all  the  more  vehemently,  "Drive  him 
hence,  for  I  do  hate  the  sight  of  him." 

So  those  two  knights  did  as  the  Lady  Ettard  said ;  they  took  Sir  Pellias 
and  bound  him    hand  and  foot   upon  his  horse.     And  when     The  Lad 
they  had  done  so  they  allowed  his  horse  for  to  bear  him  back     Ettardputs 
again  unto  his  companions  in  that  wise.  ^^PeUias. 

Now  when  Sir  Brandiles  and  Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte  beheld 
how  Sir  Pellias  came  unto  them  with  his  hands  bound  behind  his  back  and 
his  feet  tied  beneath  his  horse's  belly,  they  were  altogether  filled  with  grief 
and  despair.  So  they  loosed  those  cords  from  about  his  hands  and  feet, 
and  they  cried  out  upon  Sir  Pellias,  "  Sir  Knight,  Sir  Knight,  art  thou  not 
ashamed  to  permit  such  infamy  as  this?"  And  Sir  Pellias  shook  and 
trembled  as  though  with  an  ague,  and  he  cried  out  in  great  despair,  "I 
care  not  what  happens  unto  me!"  They  said,  "Not  unto  thyself,  Sir 


238  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

Knight ;  but  what  shame  dost  thou  bring  upon  King  Arthur  and  his  Round 
Table  !  "  Upon  this  Sir  Pellias  cried  aloud,  with  a  great  and  terrible  voice, 
41 1  care  not  for  them,  either." 

All  of  this  befell  because  of  the  powerful  enchantment  of  the  collar  oi 
emeralds  and  opal  stones  and  of  gold  which  Sir  Pellias  had  given  unto 
the  Lady  Ettard,  and  which  she  continually  wore.  For  it  was  beyond  the 
power  of  any  man  to  withstand  the  enchantment  of  that  collar.  So  it  was 
that  Sir  Pellias  was  bewitched  and  brought  to  that  great  pass  of  shame. 


JjeLab?  of  %  LaBc  alts 
by  fl|e  Fountain  in  Am>j& 


Chapter  Fourth. 


How  Queen    Guinevere    Quarrelled   With  Sir  Gawaine,  and  How 
Sir  Gawaine  Left  the  Court  of  King  Arthur  For  a  While. 

NOW,  in  the  same  measure  that  Queen  Guinevere  felt  high  regard 
for  Sir  Pellias,  in  that  same  degree  she  felt  misliking  for  Sir 
Gawaine.  For,  though  Sir  Gawaine  was  said  of  many  to  have 
a  silver  tongue,  and  whiles  he  could  upon  occasion  talk  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  beguile  others  unto  his  will,  yet  he  was  of  a  proud  temper  and  very 
stern  and  haughty.  Wherefore  he  would  not  always  brook  that  the  Lady 
Guinevere  should  command  him  unto  her  will  as  she  did  other  knights  of 
that  Court.  Moreover,  she  could  not  ever  forget  how  Sir  Gawaine  did 
deny  her  that  time  at  Cameliard  when  she  besought  him  and  his  compan- 
ions for  aid,  in  her  time  of  trouble,  nor  how  discourteous  his  speech  had 
been  to  her  upon  that  occasion.  So  there  was  no  great  liking  between 
these  two  proud  souls,  for  Queen  Guinevere  held  to  her  way  and  Sir 
Gawaine  held  to  his  way  under  all  circumstances. 

Now  it  happened  upon  an  occasion  that  Sir  Gawaine  and  Sir  Griflet 
and  Sir  Constantine  of  Cornwall  sat  talking  with  five  ladies  of  the  Queen's 
Court  in  a  pleached  garden  that  lay  beneath  the  tower  of  the 

T1_.  ,.  ,  ,  ,.  Sir  Gawaine 

Lady    Guinevere,   and    they  made  very  pleasant   discourse   and  others  sit 
together.     For  some  whiles  they  would  talk  and  make  them   ^neath  the 

.  .     .  i        ,  i  -i  ,1  Queen  s  window. 

merry  with  jests  and  contes,  and  other  whiles  one  or  another 

would  take  a  lute  that  they  had  with  them  and  would  play  upon  it  and 

would  sing. 

Now  while  these  lords  and  ladies  sat  thus  enjoying  pleasant  discourse 
and  singing  in  that  manner,  Queen  Guinevere  sat  at  a  window  that  over- 
looked the  garden,  and  which  was  not  very  high  from  the  ground,  where- 
fore she  could  overhear  all  that  they  said.  But  these  lords  and  ladies  were 
altogether  unaware  that  the  Queen  could  overhear  them,  so  that  they 
talked  and  laughed  very  freely,  and  the  Queen  greatly  enjoyed  their  dis- 
course and  the  music  that  they  made. 


242  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

That  day  was  extraordinarily  balmy,  and  it  being  well  toward  the  slop- 
ing of  the  afternoon,  those  lords  and  ladies  were  clad  in  very  gay  attire. 
And.  of  all  who  were  there  Sir  Gawaine  was  the  most  gayly  clad,  for  he 
was  dressed  in  sky-blue  silk  embroidered  with  threads  of  silver.  And  Sir 
Gawaine  was  playing  upon  the  lute  and  singing  a  ballad  in  an  exceedingly 
pleasing  voice  so  that  Queen  Guinevere,  as  she  sat  at  the  window  beside 
the  open  casement,  was  very  well  content  for  to  listen  to  him. 

Now  there  was  a  certain  greyhound  of  which  Queen  Guinevere  was 
wonderfully  fond  ;  so  much  so  that  she  had  adorned  its  neck  with  a  collar 
~.  ~  .  of  gold  inset  with  carbuncles.  At  that  moment  the  hound 

Sir  Gawaine  .  m 

striketh  the  came  running  into  that  garden  and  his  feet  were  wet  and 
Queen's  hound.  soj}e(j  wjt}1  earth.  So,  hearing  Sir  Gawaine  singing  and  play- 
ing upon  the  lute,  that  hound  ran  unto  him  and  leaped  upon  him.  At  this 
Sir  Gawaine  was  very  wroth,  wherefore  he  clinched  his  hand  and  smote 
the  hound  upon  the  head  with  the  knuckles  thereof,  so  that  the  hound 
lifted  up  his  voice  with  great  outcry. 

But  when  Queen  Guinevere  beheld  that  blow  she  was  greatly  offended, 
wherefore  she  called  out  from  her  window,  "  Why  dost  thou  smite  my 
dog,  Messire?"  And  those  lords  and  ladies  who  were  below  in  the  gar- 
den were  very  much  surprised  and  were  greatly  abashed  to  find  that  the 
Queen  was  so  nigh  unto  them  as  to  overhear  all  that  they  had  said  and  to 
behold  all  that  they  did. 

But  Sir  Gawaine  spake  up  very  boldly,  saying,  "  Thy  dog  affronted 
me,  Lady,  and  whosoever  affronteth  me,  him  I  strike." 

Then  Queen  Guinevere  grew  very  angry  with  Sir  Gawaine,  wherefore 
she  said,  "  Thy  speech  is  over-bold,  Messire,"  and  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  Not 
over-bold,  Lady  ;  but  only  bold  enough  for  to  maintain  my  rights." 

At  this  speech  the  Lady  Guinevere's  face  flamed  like  fire  and  her  eyes 

shone  very  bright  and  she  said,  "  I  am  sure  that  thou  dost  forget  unto 

whom  thou  speakest,  Sir  Knight,"  at  the  which  Sir  Gawaine 

reloftiu  smiled  very  bitterly  and  said,  "And  thou,  Lady,  dost  not  re- 

Queen  and         member  that  I  am  the  son  of  a  king-  so  powerful  that  he  needs 

Sir  Gawaine.  «•»!•• 

no  help  from  any  other  king  for  to  maintain  his  rights. 
At  these  words  all  those  who  were  there  fell  as  silent  as  though  they 
were  turned  into  stones,  for  that  speech  was  exceedingly  bold  and  haughty. 
Wherefore  all  looked  upon  the  ground,  for  they  durst  not  look  either 
upon  Queen  Guinevere  nor  upon  Sir  Gawaine.  And  the  Lady  Guinevere, 
also,  was  silent  for  a  long  time,  endeavoring  to  recover  herself  from  that 
speech,  and  when  she  spake,  it  was  as  though  she  was  half  smothered  by 
her  anger.  And  she  said,  "  Sir  Knight,  thou  art  proud  and  arrogant  be- 


SSI?    GAWAINE   DEPARTS  FROM  COURT  243 

yond  measure,  for  I  did  never  hear  of  anyone  who  dared  to  give  reply 
unto  his  Queen  as  thou  hast  spoken  unto  me.  But  this  is  my  Court,  and  I 
may  command  in  it  as  I  choose  ;  wherefore  I  do  now  bid  thee  for  to  be- 
gone and  to  show  thy  face  no  more,  either  here  nor  in  Hall  nor  any  of  the 
places  where  I  hold  my  Court.  For  thou  art  an  offence  unto  me,  wherefore 
in  none  of  these  places  shalt  thou  have  leave  to  show  thy  face  until  thou 
dost  ask  my  pardon  for  the  affront  which  thou  hast  put  upon  me."  Then 
Sir  Gawaine  arose  and  bowed  very  low  to  the  Queen  Guinevere  and  he 
said,  "  Lady,  I  go.  Nor  will  I  return  thitherward  until  thou  art  willing 
for  to  tell  me  that  thou  art  sorry  for  the  discourteous  way  in  which  thou 
hast  entreated  me  now  and  at  other  times  before  my  peers." 

So  saying,  Sir  Gawaine  took  his  leave  from  that  place,  nor  did  he  turn 
his  head  to  look  behind  him.  And  Queen  Guinevere  went  into  her  cham- 
ber and  wept  in  secret  for  anger  and  for  shame.  For  indeed  she  was  great- 
ly grieved  at  what  had  befallen  ;  yet  was  she  so  proud  that  she  would  in 
no  wise  have  recalled  the  words  that  she  had  spoken,  even  had  she  been 
able  for  to  have  done  so. 

Now  when  the  news  of  that  quarrel  had  gone  about  the  castle  it  came 
unto  the  ears  of  Sir  Ewaine,  wherefore  Sir  Ewaine  went  straightway  unto 
Sir  Gawaine,  and  asked  him  what  was  ado,  and  Sir  Gawaine,  who  was 
like  one  distraught  and  in  great  despair,  told  him  everything.  Then  Sir 
Ewaine  said  :  "  Thou  wert  certainly  wrong  for  to  speak  unto  the  Queen  as 
thou  didst.  Nevertheless,  if  thou  art  banished  from  this  Court,  I  will  go 
with  thee,  for  thou  art  my  cousin-german  and  my  companion,  and  my 
heart  cleaveth  unto  thee."  So  Sir  Ewaine  went  unto  King  Arthur,  and  he 
said,  "  Lord,  my  cousin,  Sir  Gawaine,  hath  been  banished  from  this  Court 
by  the  Queen.  And  though  I  may  not  say  that  he  hath  not  deserved  that 
punishment,  yet  I  would  fain  crave  thy  leave  for  to  go  along  with  him." 

At  this  King  Arthur  was  very  grieved,  but  he  maintained  a  steadfast 
countenance,  and  said,  "  Messire,  I  will  not  stay  thee  from  going  where  it 
pleases  thee.  As  for  thy  kinsman,  I  daresay  he  gave  the  Queen  such 
great  offence  that  she  could  not  do  otherwise  than  as  she  did." 

So  both  Sir  Ewaine  and  Sir  Gawaine  went  unto  their  inns  and  com- 
manded their  esquires  for  to  arm  them.  Then  they,  with  their  sir  Gawaine 


esquires,  went  forth  from  Camelot,  betaking  their  way  toward  and  Sir 
the  forest  lands. 

There  those  two  knights  and  their  esquires  travelled  for  all  that  day  un- 
til the  gray  of  the  eventide,  what  time  the  birds  were  singing  their  last 
songs  ere  closing  their  eyes  for  the  night.  So,  finding  the  evening  draw- 
ing on  apace,  those  knights  were  afraid  that  they  would  not  be  able  to 


,44  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

find  kindly  lodging  ere  the  night  should  descend  upon  them,  and  they 
talked  together  a  great  deal  concerning  that  thing.  But  as  they  came 
to  the  top  of  a  certain  hill,  they  beheld  below  them  a  valley,  very 
fair  and  well  tilled,  with  many  cottages  and  farm-crofts.  And  in  the 
midst  of  that  valley  was  a  goodly  abbey  very  fair  to  look  upon ;  wherefore 
Sir  Gawaine  said  unto  Sir  Ewaine  :  "  If  yonder  abbey  is  an  abbey  of 
monks,  I  believe  we  shall  find  excellent  lodging  there  for  to-night." 

So  they  rode  down  into  that  valley  and  to  the  abbey,  and  they  found 
The  come  to  a  Porter  a^  the  wicket  of  whom  they  learned  that  it  was  in- 
an  abbey  of  deed  an  abbey  of  monks.  Wherefore  they  were  very  glad 
mon  s'  and  made  great  rejoicing. 

But  when  the  abbot  of  that  abbey  learned  who  they  were  and  of  what 
quality  and  high  estate,  he  was  exceedingly  pleased  for  to  welcome  them, 
wherefore  he  brought  them  into  that  part  of  the  abbey  where  he  himself 
dwelt.  There  he  bade  them  welcome  and  had  set  before  them  a  good 
supper,  whereat  they  were  very  much  rejoiced.  Now  the  abbot  was  merry 
of  soul,  and  took  great  pleasure  in  discourse  with  strangers,  so  he  diligent- 
ly inquired  of  those  two  knights  concerning  the  reason  why  they  were 
errant.  But  they  told  him  naught  concerning  that  quarrel  at  Court,  but 
only  that  they  were  in  search  of  adventure.  Upon  this  the  abbot  said, 
"  Ha,  Messires,  if  ye  are  in  search  of  adventures,  ye  may  find  one  not  very 
far  from  this  place." 

So  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  What  adventure  is  that  ?  "  And  the  abbot  re- 
plied, "  I  will  tell  ye  ;  if  ye  will  travel  to  the  eastward  from  this  place,  ye 
will  come,  after  a  while,  to  a  spot  where  ye  shall  find  a  very 
telieth  the  ^r  castle  of  gray  stone.  In  front  of  that  castle  ye  will  find  a 

knights  of  a  good  level  meadow,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  meadow  a  syca- 

good adventure.  .  • J 

more-tree,  and  upon  the  sycamore-tree  a  shield  to  which 
certain  ladies  offer  affront  in  a  very  singular  manner.  If  ye  forbid  those 
ladies  to  affront  that  shield  you  will  discover  a  very  good  adventure." 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  That  is  a  very  strange  matter.  Now,  to-mor- 
row morning  we  will  go  to  that  place  and  will  endeavor  to  discover  of 
what  sort  that  adventure  may  be."  And  the  abbot  said,  "  Do  so,"  and 
laughed  in  great  measure. 

So  when  the  next  morning  had  come,  Sir  Gawaine  and  Sir  Ewaine  gave 
adieu  unto  the  abbot,  and  took  their  leave  of  that  place,  riding  away  unto 
the  eastward,  as  the  abbot  had  advised.  And  after  they  had  ridden  in  that 
direction  for  two  or  three  hours  or  more  they  beheld  before  them  the  bor- 
ders of  a  forest  all  green  and  shady  with  foliage,  and  very  cheerful  in  the 
warmth  of  the  early  summer  day.  And,  lo !  immediately  at  the  edge  of 


THEY  BEHELD  A    STRANGE   SIGHT  245 

the  woodland  there  stood  a  fair,  strong  castle  of  gray  stone,  with  windows 
of  glass  shining  very  bright  against  the  sky. 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  and  Sir  Ewaine  beheld  that  everything  was  as  the 
abbot  had  said  ;  for  in  front  of  the  castle  was  a  smooth,  level  meadow 
with  a  sycamore-tree  in  the  midst  thereof.  And  as  they  drew  near  they 
perceived  that  a  sable  shield  hung  in  the  branches  of  the  tree,  and  in  a  little 
they  could  see  that  it  bore  the  device  of  three  white  goshawks  displayed. 
But  that  which  was  very  extraordinary  was  that  in  front  of  sir 
that  shield  there  stood  seven  young  damsels,  exceedingly  fair  and  sir 
of  face,  and  that  these  seven  damsels  continually  offered  a 
great  deal  of  insult  to  that  shield.  For  some  of  those  damsels  the  shield- 
smote  it  ever  and  anon  with  peeled  rods  of  osier,  and  others  flung  lumps 
of  clay  upon  it,  so  that  the  shield  was  greatly  defaced  therewith.  Now 
nigh  to  the  shield  was  a  very  noble-appearing  knight  clad  all  in  black 
armor,  and  seated  upon  a  black  war-horse,  and  it  was  very  plain  to  be  seen 
that  the  shield  belonged  unto  that  knight,  for  otherwise  he  had  no  shield. 
Yet,  though  that  was  very  likely  his  shield,  yet  the  knight  offered  no 
protest  either  by  word  or  by  act  to  stay  those  damoiselles  from  offering 
affront  thereunto. 

Then  Sir  Ewaine  said  unto  Sir  Gawaine,  "  Yonder  is  a  very  strange 
thing  that  I  behold ;  belike  one  of  us  is  to  encounter  yonder  knight." 
And  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  Maybe  so."  Then  Sir  Ewaine  said,  "  If  it  be  so 
then  I  will  undertake  the  adventure."  "  Not  so,"  said  Sir  Gawaine,  "  for  I 
will  undertake  it  myself,  I  being  the  elder  of  us  twain,  and  the  better  sea- 
soned in  knighthood."  So  Sir  Ewaine  said,  "  Very  well.  Let  it  be  that 
way,  for  thou  art  a  very  much  more  powerful  knight  than  I,  and  it  would 
be  a  pity  for  one  of  us  to  fail  in  this  undertaking."  Thereupon  Sir  Ga- 
waine said,  "  Let  be,  then,  and  I  will  undertake  it." 

So  he  set  spurs  to  his  horse  and  he  rode  rapidly  to  where  those 
damsels  offered  affront  in  that  way  to  the  sable  shield.  And  he  set  his 
spear  in  rest  and  shouted  in  a  loud  voice,  "  Get  ye  away  !  Get  ye  away  !  " 
So  when  those  damsels  beheld  the  armed  knight  riding  at  them  in  that 
wise  they  fled  away  shrieking  from  before  him. 

Then  the  Sable  Knight,  who  sat  not  a  great  distance  away,  rode  forward 
in  a  very  stately  manner  unto  Sir  Gawaine,  and  he  said, "  Sir  Knight,  why 
dost  thou  interfere  with  those  ladies  ?  "  Whereunto  Sir  Gawaine  replied, 
"  Because  they  offered  insult  unto  what  appeared  to  me  to  be  a  noble  and 
knightly  shield."  At  this  the  Sable  Knight  spake  very  haughtily,  saying, 
"  Sir  Knight,  that  shield  belongeth  unto  me  and  I  do  assure  thee  that  I 
am  very  well  able  for  to  take  care  of  it  without  the  interference  of  any 


246  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

other  defender."  To  which  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  It  would  appear  not,  Sir 
Knight." 

Then  the  Sable  Knight  said,  "  Messire,  an  thou  thinkest  that  thou  art 
better  able  to  take  care  of  that  shield  than  I,  I  think  that  thou  wouldst  do 
very  well  to  make  thy  words  good  with  thy  body."  To  this  Sir  Gawaine 
said,  "  I  will  do  my  endeavor  to  show  thee  that  I  am  better  able  to  guard 
that  shield  than  thou  art  who  ownest  it." 

Upon  this  the  Sable  Knight,  without  further  ado,  rode  unto  the  sycamore- 
tree,  and  took  down  from  thence  the  shield  that  hung  there. 
And  he  dressed  the  shield  upon  his  artn  and  took  his  spear  in 
Knight  engage  hand  and  made  him  ready  for  defence.  And  Sir  Gawaine 
likewise  made  him  ready  for  defence,  and  then  each  knight 
took  such  station  upon  the  field  as  appeared  unto  him  to  be  fitting. 

Now,  when  the  people  of  that  castle  perceived  that  a  combat  of  arms 
was  toward,  they  crowded  in  great  numbers  to  the  walls,  so  that  there 
were  as  many  as  twoscore  ladies  and  esquires  and  folk  of  different  degrees 
looking  down  upon  that  field  of  battle  from  the  walls. 

So  when  those  knights  were  altogether  prepared,  Sir  Ewaine  gave  the 
signal  for  encounter  and  each  knight  shouted  aloud  and  drave  spurs  into 
his  charger  and  rushed  forward  to  the  assault  with  a  noise  like  thunder 
for  loudness. 

Now,  Sir  Gawaine  thought  that  he  should  easily  overcome  his  adversary 
in  this  assault  and  that  he  would  be  able  to  cast  him  down  from  out  of  his 
saddle  without  much  pains,  for  there  was  hardly  any  knight  in  that  realm 
equal  to  Sir  Gawaine  for  prowess.  And,  indeed,  he  had  never  yet  been 
unhorsed  in  combat  excepting  by  King  Arthur.  So  when  those  two  rode 
to  the  assault,  the  one  against  the  other,  Sir  Gawaine  thought  of  a  surety 
that  his  adversary  would  fall  before  him.  But  it  was  not  so,  for  in  that 
attack  Sir  Gawaine's  spear  was  broken  into  many  pieces,  but 
TKnijh?C0ver-  the  spear  of  the  Sable  Knight  held,  so  that  Sir  Gawaine  was 
throweth  Sir  cast  wjth  great  violence  out  of  the  saddle,  smiting  the  dust 
with  a  terrible  noise  of  falling.  And  so  astonished  was  he  at 
that  fall  that  it  appeared  unto  him  not  as  though  he  fell  from  his  saddle, 
but  as  though  the  earth  rose  up  and  smote  him.  Wherefore  he  lay  for  a 
while  all  stunned  with  the  blow  and  with  the  astonishment  thereof. 

But  when  he  heard  the  shouts  of  the  people  upon  the  castle  wall,  he 
immediately  aroused  himself  from  where  he  lay  in  the  dust,  and  he  was  so 
filled  with  rage  and  shame  that  he  was  like  one  altogether  intoxicated. 
Wherefore  he  drew  his  sword  and  rushed  with  great  fury  upon  his  enemy 
with  intent  to  hew  him  down  by  main  strength.  Then  that  other  knight, 


GAWAINE  ENCOUNTERS   THE  BLACK  KNIGHT        247 

seeing  him  come  thus  at  him,  immediately  voided  his  own  saddle  and 
drew  his  sword  and  put  himself  in  posture  either  for  assault  or  for  defence. 
So  they  lashed  together,  tracing  this  way  and  that,  and  smiting  with  such 
fury  that  the  blows  they  gave  were  most  terrible  for  to  behold.  But  when 
Sir  Ewaine  beheld  how  fierce  was  that  assault,  he  set  spurs  unto  his 
horse  and  pushed  him  between  the  knights-contestant,  crying  out  aloud, 
«'  Sir  Knights  !  Sir  Knights  !  what  is  this?  Here  is  no  cause  for  such  des- 
perate battle."  But  Sir  Gawaine  cried  out  very  furiously,  "  Let  be !  let 
be  !  and  stand  aside !  for  this  quarrel  concerns  thee  not."  And  the  Sable 
Knight  said,  "  A-horse  or  afoot,  I  am  ready  to  meet  that  knight  at  any 
time." 

But  Sir  Ewaine  said,  "  Not  so ;  ye  shall  fight  no  more  in  this  quarrel. 
For  shame,  Gawaine !  For  shame  to  seek  such  desperate  quarrel  with  a 
knight  that  did  but  meet  thee  in  a  friendly  fashion  in  a  fair  contest !  " 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  was  aware  that  Sir  Ewaine  was  both  just  and  right; 
wherefore  he  put  up  his  sword  in  silence,  albeit  he  was  like  to  weep  for 
vexation  at  the  shame  of  his  overthrow.  And  the  Sable  Knight  put  up  his 
sword  also,  and  so  peace  was  made  betwixt  those  two. 

Then  the  Sable  Knight  said,  "  I  am  glad  that  this  quarrel  is  ended,  for  I 
perceive,  Messires,  that  ye  are  assuredly  knights  of  great  nobility  and 
gentleness  of  breeding  ;  wherefore  I  would  that  we  might  henceforth  be 
friends  and  companions  instead  of  enemies.  Wherefore  I  do  beseech 
ye  for  to  come  with  me  a  little  ways  from  here  where  I  have  taken 
up  my  inn,  so  that  we  may  rest  and  refresh  ourselves  in  my  pavilion." 

Unto  this  Sir  Ewaine  said,  "  I  give  thee  gramercy  for  thy  courtesy,  Sir 
Knight;  and  we  will  go  with  thee  with  all  the  pleasure  that  it  is  possible 
to  feel."  And  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  I  am  content."  So  these  three  knights 
straightway  left  the  field  of  battle. 

And  when  they  had  come  to  the  edge  of  the  forest  Sir  Gawaine  and  Sir 
Ewaine  perceived  a  very  fine  pavilion  of  green  silk  set  up  beneath  the  tree. 
And  about  that  pavilion  were  many  attendants  of  divers  sorts  sir  Gawaine 
all  clad  in  colors  of  green  and   white.     So  Sir  Gawaine  per-  and  sir  Ewaine 

.          come  to  the  pa- 

ceived  that  the  knight  who  had  overthrown  him  was  certainly  vilion  of  the 
someone  of  very  high  estate,  wherefore  he  was  very  greatly  Black  Knis^t. 
comforted.     Then  the  esquires  of  those  three  knights  came  and  removed 
the  helmet,   each  esquire  from  his  knight,  so  that  the  knight  might   be 
made  comfortable  thereby.     And  when  this  was  done  Sir  Gawaine  and  Sir 
Ewaine  perceived  that  the  Sable  Knight  was  very  comely  of  countenance, 
being  ruddy  of  face  and  with  hair  like  to  copper  for  redness.     Then  Sir 
Ewaine  said  unto  the  knight, "  Sir  Unknown  Knight,  this  knight,  my  com- 


248  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

panion,  is  Sir  Gawaine,  son  of  King  Urien  of  Gore,  and  I  am  Ewaine,  the 
son  of  King  Lot  of  Orkney.  Now,  I  crave  of  thee  that  wilt  make  thyself 
known  unto  us  in  like  manner." 

"  Ha,"  said  the  other ;  "  I  am  glad  that  ye  are  such  very  famous  and 
royal  knights,  for  I  am  also  of  royal  blood,  being  Sir  Marhaus,  the  son  of 
the  King  of  Ireland." 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  was  very  glad  to  discover  how  exalted  was  the  qual- 
ity of  that  knight  who  overthrew  him  and  he  said  unto  Sir  Marhaus, 
"  Messire,  I  make  my  vow,  that  thou  art  one  of  the  most  terrible  knights 
in  the  world.  For  thou  hast  done  unto  me  this  day  what  only  one  knight 
in  all  the  world  hath  ever  done,  and  that  is  King  Arthur,  who  is  my  uncle 
and  my  lord.  Now  thou  must  certainly  come  unto  the  Court  of  King 
Arthur,  for  he  will  be  wonderfully  glad  for  to  see  thee,  and  maybe  he  will 
make  thee  a  Knight  of  his  Round  Table — and  there  is  no  honor  in  all  of  the 
world  that  can  be  so  great  as  that."  Thus  he  spoke  unthinkingly ;  and 
then  he  remembered.  Wherefore  he  smote  his  fist  against  his  forehead, 
crying  out,  "  Aha  !  aha !  who  am  I  for  to  bid  thee  to  come  unto  the  Court  of 
King  Arthur,  who  only  yesterday  was  disgraced  and  banished  therefrom  ?  " 

Then  Sir  Marhaus  was  very  sorry  for  Sir  Gawaine,  and  he  inquired 
concerning  the  trouble  that  lay  upon  him,  and  Sir  Ewaine  told  Sir  Mar- 
haus all  about  that  quarrel ;  at  that  Sir  Marhaus  was  still  more  sorry  for 
Sir  Gawaine,  wherefore  he  said,  "  Messires,  I  like  ye  both  wonderfully 
well,  and  I  would  fain  become  your  companion  in  the  adventures  ye  are 
to  undertake.  For  now  I  need  remain  here  no  longer.  Ye  must  know 
that  I  was  obliged  to  defend  those  ladies  who  assailed  my  shield  until  I 
had  overthrown  seven  knights  in  their  behalf.  And  I  must  tell  ye  that 
Sir  Gawaine  was  the  seventh  knight  I  have  overthrown.  Wherefore, 
since  I  have  now  overthrown  him,  I  am  now  released  from  my  obligation 
and  may  go  with  ye." 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  and  Sir  Ewaine  were  very  much  astonished  that  any 
knight  should  lie  beneath  so  strange  an  obligation  as  that — to  defend 
those  who  assailed  his  shield — and  they  besought  Sir  Marhaus  to  tell  them 
why  he  should  have  been  obliged  to  fulfil  such  a  pledge.  So  Sir  Marhaus 
Sir  Marhaus  said,  "  I  will  tell  ye.  The  case  was  this:  Some  whiles  ago  I 
tdieth  his  story.  was  travelling  in  these  parts  with  a  hawk  upon  my  wrist.  At 
that  time  I  was  clad  very  lightly  in  holiday  attire,  to  wit :  I  wore  a  tunic 
of  green  silk,  and  hosen  one  of  green  and  one  of  white.  And  I  had  nothing 
upon  me  by  way  of  defence  but  a  light  buckler  and  a  short  sword.  Now, 
coming  unto  a  certain  stream  of  water,  very  deep  and  rapid,  I  perceived 
before  me  a  bridge  of  stone  crossing  that  stream,  but  so  narrow  that  only 


THE   STORY  OF  THE  BLACK  KNIGHT  249 

one  horseman  might  cross  the  bridge  at  a  time.  So  I  entered  upon  that 
bridge  and  was  part  way  across  it,  when  I  perceived  a  knight  in  armor 
coming  the  other  way.  And  behind  the  knight  there  sat  upon  a  pillion  a 
very  fair  lady  with  golden  hair  and  very  proud  of  demeanor.  Now,  when 
that  knight  perceived  me  upon  the  bridge,  he  cried  aloud,  *  Get  back !  get 
back  !  and  suffer  me  to  pass  ! '  But  this  I  would  not  do,  but  said,  *  Not  so, 
Sir  Knight,  for,  having  advanced  so  far  upon  this  bridge,  I  have  certes 
the  right  of  way  to  complete  my  passage,  and  it  is  for  you  to  wait  and 
to  permit  me  to  cross/  But  the  knight  would  not  do  so,  but  immediately 
put  himself  in  posture  of  offence  and  straightway  came  against  me  upon 
the  bridge  with  intent  either  to  slay  me  or  to  drive  me  back  unto  the  other 
extremity  of  the  bridge.  But  this  he  was  not  able  to  do,  for  I  defended 
myself  very  well  with  my  light  weapons.  And  I  so  pushed  my  horse 
against  his  horse  that  1  drave  him  backward  from  off  the  bridge  and 
?nto  the  water,  whereinto  the  horse  and  the  knight  and  the  lady  all  of 
•.hem  fell  with  a  terrible  uproar. 

"  At  this  the  lady  shrieked  in  great  measure  and  both  she  and  the  knight 
were  like  to  drown  in  the  water,  the  knight  being  altogether  clad  in 
armor,  so  that  he  could  not  uplift  himself  above  the  flood.  Wherefore, 
beholding  their  extremity,  I  leaped  from  off  my  horse  and  into  the  water, 
and  with  great  ado  and  with  much  danger  unto  myself,  I  was  able  to 
bring  them  both  unto  the  land. 

"  But  that  lady  was  very  greatly  offended  with  me,  for  her  fair  raiment 
was  altogether  wet  and  spoiled  by  the  water,  wherefore  she  upbraided 
me  with  great  vehemence.  So  I  kneeled  down  before  her  and  besought 
her  pardon  with  all  humility,  but  she  still  continued  to  upbraid  me.  Then 
I  offered  unto  her  for  to  perform  any  penance  that  she  might  set  upon  me. 
At  this  the  lady  appeared  to  be  greatly  mollified,  for  she  said,  '  Very 
well,  I  will  set  thee  a  penance/  and  when  her  knight  had  recovered  she 
said,  '  Come  with  us/  and  so  I  mounted  my  horse  and  followed  them.  So 
after  we  had  gone  a  considerable  distance  we  came  to  this  place  and  here 
she  commanded  me  as  follows:  'Sir  Knight/  quoth  she,  '  this  castle  be- 
longeth  unto  me  and  unto  this  knight  who  is  my  lord.  Now,  this  shall  be 
the  penance  for  the  affront  thou  hast  given  me-,  thou  shalt  take  thy  shield 
and  hang  it  up  in  yonder  sycamore-tree  and  every  day  I  will  send  certain 
damsels  of  mine  own  out  from  the  castle.  And  they  shall  offend  against 
that  shield  and  thou  shalt  not  only  suffer  whatever  offence  they  may  offer, 
but  thou  shalt  defend  them  against  all  comers  until  thou  hast  overcome 
seven  knights/ 

"So  I  have  done  until  this  morning,  when  thou,  Sir  Gawaine,  earnest 


250 


THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 


hither.  Thou  art  the  seventh  knight  against  whom  I  have  contended,  and 
as  I  ha\*e  overcome  thee,  my  penance  is  now  ended  and  I  am  free." 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  and  Sir  Ewaine  gave  Sir  Marhaus  great  joy  that  his 
penance  was  completed,  and  they  were  very  well  satisfied  each  party  with 
the  others.  So  Sir  Gawaine  and  Sir  Ewaine  abided  that  night  in  the 
pavilion  of  Sir  Marhaus  and  the  next  morning  they  arose  and,  having  laved 
themselves  in  a  forest  stream,  they  departed  from  that  place  where  they 
were. 

So  they  entered  the  forest  land  once  more  and  made  their  way  by  cer- 
tain paths,  they  knew  not  whitherward  ;  and  they  travelled  all  that  morning 
and  until  the  afternoon  was  come. 

Now,  as  they  travelled  thus  Sir  Marhaus  said  of  a  sudden,  "  Messires, 

know  ye  where  we  are  come  to  ? "     "  Nay,"  they  said,  "  we  know  not." 

Then  Sir   Marhaus  said,  "  This  part  of  the   forest   is   called 

knigkts'enter      Arroy  and   it   is  further  called   '  The  Forest  of  Adventure.' 

the  Forest  of      por  ft  js  verv  well  known  that  when  a  knight,  or  a  party  of 

Adventure.  .  J         .  *         •> 

knights  enter  this  forest,  they  will  assuredly  meet  with  an 
adventure  of  some  sort,  from  which  some  come  forth  with  credit  while 
others  fail  therein."  And  Sir  Ewaine  said,  "  I  am  glad  that  we  have  come 
hither.  Now  let  us  go  forward  into  this  forest." 

So  those  three  knights  and  their  esquires  continued  onward  in  that 
woodland  where  was  silence  so  deep  that  even  the  tread  of  their  horses 
upon  the  earth  was  scarcely  to  be  heard.  And  there  was  no  note  of  bird 
and  no  sound  of  voice  and  hardly  did  any  light  penetrate  into  the  gloom 
of  that  woodland.  Wherefore  those  knights  said  unto  one  another, 
"  This  is  soothly  a  very  strange  place  and  one,  maybe,  of  enchantment." 

Now  when  they  had  come  into  the  very  midst  of  these  dark  woodlands, 
they  perceived  of  a  sudden,  in  the  pathway  before  them,  a  fawn  as  white 
They  behold  a  as  m^'  And  round  the  neck  of  the  fawn  was  a  collar  of 
-white  fawn  in  pure  gold.  And  the  fawn  stood  and  looked  at  them,  but  when 

they  had  come  nigh  to  it,  it  turned  and  ran  along  a  very  narrow 
path.  Then  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  Let  us  follow  that  fawn  and  see  where 
it  goeth."  And  the  others  said,  "  We  are  content."  So  they  followed  that 
narrow  path  until  of  a  sudden  they  came  to  where  was  a  little  open  lawn 
very  bright  with  sunlight.  In  the  midst  of  the  lawn  was  a  fountain  of 
water,  and  there  was  no  fawn  to  be  seen,  but,  lo !  beside  the  fountain  there 
They  behold  a  sa^  a  wonderfully  beautiful  lady,  clad  all  in  garments  of  green. 
beautiful  lady  And  the  lady  combed  her  hair  with  a  golden  comb,  and 
m  the  forest.  ker  ^^  wag  j.^g  ^  ^  wjng  of  a  raven  for  blackness.  And 

upon  her  arms  she  wore  very  wonderful  bracelets  of  emeralds  and  of  opal 


THREE  KNIGHTS  ENCOUNTER  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE     251 

stones  inset  into  cunningly  wrought  gold.  Moreover,  the  face  of  the 
lady  was  like  ivory  for  whiteness  and  her  eyes  were  bright  like  jewels 
set  in  ivory.  Now,  when  this  lady  perceived  the  knights  she  arose  and 
laid  aside  her  golden  comb  and  bound  up  the  locks  of  her  hair  with 
ribbons  of  scarlet  silk,  and  thereupon,  she  came  to  those  knights  and  gave 
them  greeting. 

Then  those  three  knights  gat  them  down  straightway  from  off  their 
horses,  and  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  Lady,  I  believe  that  thou  art  not  of  mortal 
sort,  but  that  thou  art  of  faerie."  Unto  this  the  lady  said,  "  Sir  Gawaine, 
thou  art  right,"  and  Sir  Gawaine  marvelled  that  she  should  know  his  name 
so  well.  Then  he  said  to  her,  "  Lady,  who  art  thou  ? "  and  she  made 
answer,  "  My  name  is  Nymue  and  I  am  the  chiefest  of  those  Ladies  of 
the  Lake  of  whom  thou  mayst  have  heard.  For  it  was  I  who  gave  unto 
King  Arthur  his  sword  Excalibur;  for  I  am  very  friendly  unto  King 
Arthur  and  to  all  the  noble  Knights  of  his  Court.  So  it  is  that  I  know 
ye  all.  And  I  know  that  thou,  Sir  Marhaus,  shall  become  one  of  the  most 
famous  Knights  of  the  Round  Table."  And  all  they  three  marvelled 
at  the  lady's  words.  Then  she  said,  "  I  prithee  tell  me  what  it  is  that  ye 
seek  in  these  parts?"  And  they  say,  "We  seek  adventure."  "Well," 
said  she,  "  I  will  bring  you  unto  adventure,  but  it  is  Sir  Gawaine  who 
must  undertake  it."  And  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "That  is  very  glad  news." 
Then  the  lady  said,  "  Take  me  behind  you  upon  your  saddle,  Sir  Gawaine, 
and  I  will  show  unto  you  that  adventure."  So  Sir  Gawaine  took  the  lady 
up  behind  him  upon  the  saddle,  and  lo !  she  brought  with  her  a  fragrance 
such  as  he  had  never  known  before  ;  for  that  fragrance  was  so  subtle  that 
it  seemed  to  Sir  Gawaine  that  the  forest  gave  forth  that  perfume  which 
the  Lady  of  the  Lake  brought  with  her. 

So  the  Lady  of  the  Lake  brought  them  by  many  devious  ways  out  from 
that  part  of  the  forest;  and  she  brought  them  by  sundry  roads  and  paths 
until  they  came  out  into  an  open  country,  very  fruitful  and  pleasant  to  be- 
hold ;  and  she  brought  them  up  a  very  high  hill,  and  from  the  top  of  the 
hill  they  looked  down  upon  a  fruitful  and  level  plain  as  upon  a  table  spread 
out  before  them.  And  they  beheld  that  in  the  midst  of  the  plain  was  a 
noble  castle  built  all  of  red  stone  and  of  red  bricks;  and  they  beheld  that 
there  was  a  small  town  built  also  of  red  bricks. 

Now  as  they  sat  their  horses  there  on  top  of  the  hill  they  perceived  of  a 
sudden  a  knight  clad  all  in  red  armor  who  came  forth  from  a  glade  of 
trees.  And  they  saw  that  the  knight  paraded  the  meadow  that  lay  m 
front  of  the  castle,  and  they  saw  that  he  gave  challenge  to  those  within 
the  castle.  Then  they  perceived  that  the  drawbridge  of  the  castle  was 


THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

let  fall  of  a  sudden  and  that  there  issued  from  thence  ten  knights  clad  in 
complete  armor.     And  they  beheld  those  ten  knights  assail  the  one  knight 

in  red  armor,  and  they  beheld  the  one  knight  assail  the  ten. 

And  they  beheld  that  for  a  while  those  ten  withstood  the 


a -very  singular  one    but   that   he    assailed   them   so   terribly    that  he  smote 

assault-at-arms.     ,  .  .      .  •   ««'»•«  , 

down  four  of  them  very  quickly.  Then  they  beheld  that 
the  rest  brake  and  fled  from  before  that  one,  and  that  the  Red  Knight  pur- 
sued the  others  about  the  meadow  with  great  fury.  And  they  saw  that 
he  smote  down  one  from  out  his  saddle  and  another  and  another  until 
but  two  of  those  knights  were  left. 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  That  is  certainly  a  very  wonderful  sight  for  to 
see."  But  the  Lady  of  the  Lake  only  smiled  and  said,  "  Wait  a  little." 

So  they  waited  and  they  saw  that  when  the  Red  Knight  had  smitten 
down  all  of  his  enemies  but  those  two,  and  that  when  he  had  put  those 
two  in  great  peril  of  their  lives,  he  of  a  sudden  sheathed  his  sword  and 
surrendered  himself  unto  them.  And  they  saw  that  those  two  knights 
brought  the  Red  Knight  to  the  castle,  and  that  when  they  had  brought  him 
there  a  lady  upon  the  wall  thereof  bespake  that  Red  Knight  as  with  great 
violence  of  language.  And  they  beheld  that  those  two  knights  took  the 
Red  Knight  and  bound  his  hands  behind  his  back,  and  that  they  bound 
his  feet  beneath  his  horse's  belly,  and  that  they  drave  him  away  from 
that  place. 

All  this  they  beheld  from  the  top  of  that  hill,  and  the  Lady  of  the  Lake 
said  unto  Sir  Gawaine,  "  There  thou  shalt  find  thy  adventure,  Sir  Ga- 
waine." And  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  I  will  go,"  and  the  Lady  of  the  Lake 
said,  "  Do  so." 

Thereupon,  lo!  she  vanished  from  their  sight  and  they  were  greatly 
amazed. 


it  Gawjahte  sups 
LabyEttatd 


Chapter  Fifth. 


How  Sir    Gawaine   Met   Sir  Pellias  and  How  He  Promised  to 
Aid  Him    With  the  Lady  Ettard. 

NOW,  after  that  wonderful  lady  had  disappeared  from  their  sight 
in  that  manner,  those  three  knights  stood  for  a  little  while  alto- 
gether astonished,  for  they  wist  not  how  to  believe  what  their  eyes 
had  beheld.  Then,  by  and  by,  Sir  Gawaine  spake,  saying,  "  Certes,  that 
was  a  very  wonderful  thing  that  happened  to  us,  for  in  all  my  life  I  never 
knew  so  strange  a  miracle  to  befall.  Now,  it  is  very  plain  that  some  ex- 
cellent adventure  lieth  in  what  we  have  seen,  wherefore  let  us  descend 
into  yonder  valley,  for  there  we  shall  doubtless  discover  what  that  signifies 
which  we  have  just  now  beheld.  For  I  make  my  vow  that  I  have  hardly 
ever  seen  so  terribly  powerful  a  knight  as  he  who  has  just  now  fought 
yonder  battle,  wherefore  1  can  in  nowise  understand  why,  when  he  should 
so  nearly  have  obtained  a  victory  over  his  enemies,  he  should  have  sur- 
rendered himself  to  them  as  he  did." 

And  Sir  Ewaine  and  Sir  Marhaus  agreed  that  it  would  be  well  to  go 
down  and  inquire  what  was  the  meaning  of  that  which  they  had  beheld. 

So  they  three  and  their  attendants  rode  down  into  the  valley. 

And  they  rode  forward  until  they  had  come  to  a  certain  glade  of  trees 
and  there  they  beheld  three  goodly  pavilions  that  stood  there :  the  one 
pavilion  of  white  cloth,  the  second  pavilion  of  green  cloth,  and  the  third 
pavilion  of  scarlet  cloth. 

Now,  as  the  three  knights-companion  drew  nigh  to  the  pavilions,  there 
came  forth  two  knights  to  meet  them.     And  when  Sir  Gawaine  and  Sir 
Ewaine  saw  the  shields  of  the  two,  they  immediately,  knew       Thethree 
that  they  were   Sir  Brandiles  and    Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte.       knights  meet 
And  in  the  same  manner  Sir  Brandiles  and  Sir  Mador  de  la 
Porte  knew  Sir  Gawaine  and  Sir  Ewaine,  and  each  party  was  very  much 


256  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

astonished  at  thus  meeting  the  other  in  so  strange  a  place.  So  when  they 
came  together  they  gave  one  another  very  joyful  greeting  and  clasped 
hands  with  strong  love  and  good  fellowship. 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  made  Sir  Marhaus  acquainted  with  Sir  Brandiles  and 
Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte  and  thereupon  the  five  knights  all  went  together 
into  those  three  pavilions,  discoursing  the  while  with  great  amity  and 
pleasure.  And  when  they  had  come  into  the  pavilion  of  Sir  Brandiles 
they  found  there  spread  a  good  refreshment  of  white  bread  and  wine  of 
excellent  savor. 

Then  after  a  while  Sir  Gawaine  said  to  Sir  Brandiles  and  Sir  Mador  de 
la  Porte,  "  Messires,  we  observed  a  little  while  ago  a  very  singular  thing ; 
for,  as  we  stood  together  at  the  top  of  yonder  hill  and  looked  down  into 
this  plain  we  beheld^  single  knight  clad  all  in  red  armor  who  did  battle 
with  ten  knights.  And  that  one  knight  in  red  armor  combated  the  ten 
with  such  fury  that  he  drave  them  all  from  before  him,  though  they  were 
so  many  and  he  but  one.  And  truly  I  make  my  vow  that  I  have  hardly 
ever  seen  a  knight  show  such  great  prowess  in  arms  as  he.  Yet,  when  he 
had  overcome  all  but  two  of  those  knights,  and  was  in  fair  way  to  win  a 
clear  victory,  he  suddenly  yielded  himself  unto  the  two  and  suffered  them 
to  take  him  and  bind  him  and  drive  him  with  great  indignity  from  the 
field.  Now,  I  pray  ye,  tell  me  what  was  the  meaning  of  that  which  we  be- 
held, and  who  was  that  knight  who  fought  so  great  a  battle  and  yet  yielded 
himself  so  shamefully." 

At  this  Sir  Brandiles  and  Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte  made  no  answer,  but 
directed  their  looks  another  way,  for  they  knew  not  what  to  say.  But 
when  Sir  Gawaine  beheld  that  they  were  abashed  he  began  more  than 
ever  to  wonder  what  that  thing  meant;  wherefore  he  said,  "  What  is  this  ? 
Why  do  ye  not  answer  me?  I  bid  ye  tell  me  what  is  the  meaning  of  your 
looks,  and  who  is  that  red  knight !  " 

Then  after  a  while  Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte  said,  "  I  shall  not  tell  you,  but 
you  may  come  and  see." 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  began  to  think  maybe  there  was  something  in  this 
that  it  would  be  better  not  to  publish,  and  that,  haply,  he  had  best  ex- 
amine further  into  the  matter  alone.  So  he  said  unto  the  other  knights, 
"  Bide  ye  here  a  little,  Messires,  and  I  will  go  with  Sir  Mador  de  la 
Porte." 

So  Sir  Gawaine  went  with  Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte,  and  Sir  Mador  led 
him  unto  the  white  pavilion.  And  when  they  had  come  there  Sir  Mador 
drew  aside  the  curtains  of  the  pavilion,  and  he  said,  "  Enter!  "  and  Sir 
Gawaine  entered. 


SIR    GAWAINE  FINDS  SIR  PELLIAS  257 

Now,  when  he  had  come  into  the  pavilion  he  perceived  that  a  man  sat 
upon  a  couch  of  rushes  covered  with  an  azure  cloth,  and  in  a 
little  he   perceived  that  man  was  Sir  Pellias.    But  Sir  Pellias 


saw  not  him  immediately,  but  sat  with  his  head  bowed,  like  eth 

,     /  '          ,  .  to  Sir  Pellias. 

one  altogether  overwhelmed  by  a  great  despair. 

But  when  Sir  Gawaine  beheld  who  it  was  that  sat  upon  the  couch,  he  was 
greatly  amazed  and  cried  out,  "  Ha  !  is  it  thou,  Sir  Pellias?  is  it  thou?" 

But  when  Sir  Pellias  heard  Sir  Gawaine's  voice,  and  when  he  perceived 
who  it  was  that  spake  to  him,  he  emitted  an  exceedingly  bitter  cry.  And 
sprang  to  his  feet  and  ran  as  far  away  as  the  walls  of  the  pavilion  would 
let  him,  and  turned  his  face  unto  the  walls  thereof. 

Then,  after  a  while,  Sir  Gawaine  spoke  very  sternly  to  Sir  Pellias,  say- 
ing, "  Messire,  I  am  astonished  and  very  greatly  ashamed  that  a  Knight 
of  King  Arthur's  Royal  Court  and  of  his  Round  Table  should    s{r  Gawaine 
behave  in  so  dishonorable  a  manner  as   I   saw   thee    behave    rebukes  Sir 
this  day.      For  it  is  hardly  to  be  believed  that  a  knight  of    Pellias' 
such  repute  and  nobility  as  thou  would  suffer  himself  to  be   taken  and 
bound  by  two  obscure  knights  as  thou  didst  suffer  thyself  this  day.     How 
couldst  thou  bring  thyself  to  submit  to  such  indignity  and  insult?    Now,  I 
do  demand  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  explain  this  matter  unto  me." 

But  Sir  Pellias  was  silent  and  would  not  make  any  reply.  Then  Sir 
Gawaine  cried  out  very  fiercely,  "  Ha  !  wilt  thou  not  answer  me?"  and 
Sir  Pellias  shook  his  head. 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  said,  still  speaking  very  fiercely,  "  Messire  !  thou 
shalt  answer  me  one  way  or  another  !  For  either  thou  shalt  tell  me  the 
meaning  of  thy  shameful  conduct,  or  else  thou  shalt  do  extreme  battle  with 
me.  For  I  will  not  suffer  it  that  thou  shalt  bring  such  shame  upon  King 
Arthur  and  his  Round  Table  without  myself  defending  the  honor  and  the 
credit  of  him  and  of  it.  One  while  thou  and  I  were  dear  friends,  but  un- 
less thou  dost  immediately  exculpate  thyself  I  shall  hold  thee  in  contempt, 
and  shall  regard  thee  as  an  enemy." 

Upon  this  Sir  Pellias  spake  like  unto  one  that  was  nigh  distracted,  and  he 
said,  "  I  will  tell  thee  all."  Then  he  confessed  everything  unto  Sir 
Gawaine,  telling  all  that  had  befallen  since  that  time  when  he  had  left  the 
May  Court  of  Queen  Guinevere  to  enter  upon  this  adventure,  and  Sir 
Gawaine  listened  unto  him  with  great  amazement.  And  when  Sir  Pellias 
had  made  an  end  of  telling  all  that  had  befallen  him,  Sir  Gawaine  said, 
"  Certes,  this  is  very  wonderful.  Indeed,  I  cannot  understand  how  thou 
earnest  to  be  so  entangled  in  the  charms  of  ^  this  lady  unless  she  hat! 
bewitched  thee  with  some  great  enchantment." 


258  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

Unto  this  Sir  Pellias  said,  "Yea,  I  believe  that  I  have  been  bewitched, 
for  I  am  altogether  beside  myself  in  this,  and  am  entirely  unable  to  con- 
tain my  passion."  * 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  bethought  him  for  a  long  while,  considering  that 
matter  very  seriously ;  and  by  and  by  he  said,  "  I  have  a  plan,  and  it  is 
this:  I  will  go  unto  the  Lady  Ettard  myself,  and  will  inquire  diligently 
into  this  affair.  And  if  I  find  that  anyone  hath  entangled  thee  in  enchant- 
ments, it  will  go  hard  with  me  but  I  will  punish  that  one  with  great  dolor. 
For  I  shall  not  have  it  that  another  enchanter  shall  beguile  thee  as  one  hath 
already  beguiled  Merlin  the  Wise." 

Then  Sir  Pellias  said  unto  Sir  Gawaine,  "  How  wilt  thou  accomplish  this 
matter  so  as  to  gain  into  the  presence  of  the  Lady  Ettard  ?  " 

Thereupon  Sir  Gawaine  replied,  "  That  I  will  tell  thee.       We  twain 

shall  exchange  armor,  and  I  will  go  unto  the  castle  in  thy  armor.     When 

I  have  come  there  I  shall  say  that  I  have  overcome  thee  in 

Sir  Gawaine  •  •  • 

advises  with  an  encounter,  and  have  taken  thine  armor  away  from  thee. 
sir  Pellias  Then  they  will  haply  admit  me  into  the  castle  to  hear  my 
story,  and  I  shall  have  speech  with  her." 

Then  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  Very  well ;  it  shall  be  as  thou  dost  ordain." 

So  Sir  Pellias  summoned  an  esquire,  and  Sir  Gawaine  summoned  his 
esquire,  and  those  two  removed  the  armor  from  Sir  Pellias,  and  clad  Sir 
Gawaine  therein.  After  they  had  done  that  Sir  Gawaine  mounted  upon 
the  horse  of  Sir  Pellias,  and  rode  openly  into  that  field  wherein  Sir  Pellias 
had  aforetime  paraded. 

Now,  it  happened  that  the  Lady  Ettard  was  at  that  time  walking  upon  a 
platform  within  the  castle  walls,  from  which  place  she  looked  down  into 
that  meadow.  So  when  she  beheld  a  red  knight  parading  in  the  meadow, 
she  thought  it  was  Sir  Pellias  come  thither  again,  and  at  that  she  was 
vexed  and  affronted  beyond  all  measure.  Wherefore  she  said  unto  those 
nigh  her,  "  That  knight  vexes  me  so  wofully  that  I  fear  me  I  shall  fall  ill 
of  vexation  if  he  cometh  here  many  more  times.  I  would  that  I  knew  how 
to  rid  myself  of  him ;  for  already,  and  only  an  hour  ago,  I  sent  ten  good 
knights  against  him,  and  he  overcame  them  all  with  great  despatch  and 
with  much  dishonor  unto  them  and  unto  me." 

So  she  beckoned  to  the  Red  Knight,  and  when  he  had  come  nigh  to  the 
walls  of  the  castle,  she  said  to  him,  "  Sir  Knight,  why  dost  thou  come 
hitherward  to  afflict  me  and  to  affront  me  thus  ?  Canst  thou  not  under- 
stand that  the  more  often  thou  comest  to  tease  me  in  this  manner,  the 
more  do  I  hate  thee?  " 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  opened  the  umbril  of  his  helmet  and   showed  his 


SIR   GAWAINE   SPEAKS   TO    THE  LADY  ETTARD  259 

face,  and  the  Lady  Ettard  saw  that  the  Red  Knight  was  not  Sir  Pellias. 
And  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  Lady,  I  am  not  that  one  whom  thou  supposest  me 
to  be,  but  another.  For,  behold !  I  have  thine  enemy's  armor  upon  my 
body,  wherefore  thou  mayst  see  that  I  have  overcome  him.  For  thou 
mayst  suppose  that  it  is  hardly  to  be  thought  that  I  could  wear  his  armor 
unless  I  took  it  from  him  by  force  of  arms.  Wherefore  thou  needst 
trouble  thyself  no  more  about  him." 

Then  the  Lady  Ettard  could  not  think  otherwise  than  this  knight  (whom 
she  knew  not)  had  indeed  overthrown  Sir  Pellias  in  a  bout  of  arms,  and 
had  taken  his  armor  away  from  him.  And  indeed  she  was  exceedingly 
astonished  that  such  a  thing  could  have  happened ;  for  it  appeared  to 
her  that  Sir  Pellias  was  one  of  the  greatest  knights  in  the  world  ;  where- 
fore she  marvelled  who  this  knight  could  be  who  had  overthrown  him 
in  battle.  So  she  gave  command  to  sundry  of  those  in  attendance  upon 
her  that  they  should  go  forth  and  bring  that  red  knight  into  the  castle 
and  that  they  should  pay  him  great  honor;  for  that  he  must  assuredly  be 
one  of  the  very  greatest  champions  in  the  world. 

Thus  Sir  Gawaine  came  into  the  castle  and  was  brought  before  the 
Lady  Ettard  where  she  stood  in  a  wonderfully  large  and  noble  hall.     For 
that  hall  was  illuminated  by  seven  tall  windows  of  colored   sirGawaine 
glass,  and  it  was  hung  around  with  tapestries  and  hangings,   enttrcth  Grant- 
very  rich  and  of  a  most  excellent  quality,  wherefore  Sir  Ga- 
waine was  greatly  astonished  at  the  magnificence  of  all  that  he  beheld 
in  that  place. 

Now,  Sir  Gawaine  had  taken  the  helmet  from  off  his  head,  and  he  bore  it 
under  his  arm  and  against  his  hip,  and  his  head  was  bare  so  that  all  who 
were  there  could  see  his  face  very  plainly.  Wherefore  they  all  perceived 
that  he  was  exceedingly  comely,  that  his  eyes  were  as  blue  as  steel,  his 
nose  high  and  curved,  and  his  hair  and  beard  very  dark  and  rich  in  color. 
Moreover,  his  bearing  was  exceedingly  steadfast  and  haughty,  so  that 
those  who  beheld  him  were  awed  by  the  great  knightliness  of  his  aspect. 

Then  the  Lady  Ettard  came  to  Sir  Gawaine  and  gave  him  her  hand,  and 
he  kneeled  down  and  set  it  to  his  lips.     And  the  lady  bespoke  him  very 
graciously,  saying,  «  Sir  Knight,  it  would  give  me  a  great  deal  of  pleasure 
if  thou  wouldst  make  us  acquainted  with  thy  name,  and  if  thou  woi 
proclaim  thy  degree  of  estate  unto  us." 

Unto  this  Sir  Gawaine  made  reply,  "Lady,  I  cannot  inform  you  of  these 
things  at  these  present,  being  just  now  vowed  unto  secrecy  upon  those 
points,  wherefore  I  do  crave  your  patience  for  a  little." 
L   Then  the  Lady  Ettard  said,  «  Sir  Knight,  it  is  a  great  pity  that  we  may 


26o  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

not  know  thy  name  and  degree  ;  ne'theless,  though  we  are  as  yet  in 
ignorance  as  to  thy  quality,  I  yet  hope  that  thou  wilt  give  us  the  pleasure 
of  thy  company  awhile,  and  that  thou  wilt  condescend  to  remain  within 
this  poor  place  for  two  days  or  three,  whiles  we  offer  thee  such  refresh* 
ment  as  we  are  able  to  do." 

Now  here  a  very  untoward  thing  befell.    To  wit,  it  was  this  :    The  Lady 
Ettard  had  come  to  love  that  necklace  of  emeralds  and  of  opal  stones  and 
of  gold  that  she  had  borrowed  from  Sir  Pellias,  and  that  to 
such  a  degree  that  she  never  let  it  depart  from  her  whether 


enchanteth  by  day  or  by  night.  Wherefore  she  wore  it  at  that  moment 
hanging  about  her  neck  and  her  throat.  So,  as  she  talked  to 
Sir  Gawaine,  he  looked  upon  that  necklace,  and  the  enchantment  thereof 
began  to  take  a  very  great  hold  upon  him.  For  he  presently  began  to  feel 
as  though  his  heart  was  drawn  with  exceeding  ardency  out  of  his  bosom 
and  unto  the  Lady  Ettard  ;  so  much  so  that,  in  a  little  while,  he  could  not  at 
all  keep  his  regard  withdrawn  from  her.  And  the  more  that  he  looked  upon 
the  necklace  and  the  lady  the  more  did  the  enchantment  of  the  jewel  take 
hold  upon  his  spirits.  Accordingly,  when  the  Lady  Ettard  spake  so  gra- 
ciously unto  him,  he  was  very  glad  to  accept  of  her  kindness  ;  wherefore 
he  said,  gazing  very  ardently  at  her  the  whiles,  "  Lady,  thou  art  exceed- 
ingly gentle  to  extend  so  great  a  courtesy  unto  me  ;  wherefore  I  shall  be 
glad  beyond  measure  for  to  stay  with  thee  for  a  short  while." 

At  these  words  the  Lady  Ettard  was  very  greatly  pleased,  for  she  said 
to  herself,  "  Certes,  this  knight  (albeit  I  know  not  who  he  may  be)  must  be  a 
champion  of  extraordinary  prowess  and  of  exalted  achievement.  Now,  if 
I  can  persuade  him  to  remain  in  this  castle  as  my  champion,  then  shall  I 
doubtless  gain  very  great  credit  thereby  ;  for  I  shall  have  one  for  to  de- 
fend my  rights  who  must  assuredly  be  the  greatest  knight  in  all  the  world." 
Wherefore  she  set  forth  every  charm  and  grace  of  demeanor  to  please  Sir 
Gawaine,  and  Sir  Gawaine  was  altogether  delighted  by  the  kindness  of 
her  manner. 

Now,  Sir  Engamore  was  there  present  at  that  time,  wherefore  he  was 
very  greatly  troubled  in  spirit.  For  in  the  same  degree  that  Sir  Gawaine- 
received  courtesy  from  the  Lady  Ettard,  in  that  same  degree  Sir  Enga- 
more was  cast  down  into  great  sorrow  and  distress  —  so  much  so  that  it  was 
a  pity  for  to  see  him.  For  Sir  Engamore  said  to  himself,  "Aforetime,  ere 
these  foreign  knights  came  hitherward,  the  Lady  Ettard  was  very  kind 
to  me,  and  was  willing  to  take  me  for  her  champion  and  lord.  But  first 
came  Sir  Pellias  and  overthrew  me,  and  now  cometh  this  strange  knight 
and  overthroweth  him,  wherefore,  in  the  presence  of  such  a  great  cham- 


SIX   GAWAINE  AND    THE  LADY  SUP  TOGETHER  261 

pion  as  this,  I  am  come  to  be  as  nothing  in  her  sight."  So  Sir  Engamore 
withdrew  himself  from  that  place  and  went  unto  his  closet,  where  he  sat 
himself  down  alone  in  great  sorrow. 

Now  the  Lady  Ettard  had  given  command  that  a  very  noble  and  splen- 
did feast  should  be  prepared  for  Sir  Gawaine  and  for  herself,  and  whilst  it 
was  preparing  she  and  Sir  Gawaine  walked  together  in  the  pleasaunce  of 
the  castle.  For  there  was  a  very  pleasant  shade  in  the  place,  and  flowers 
grew  there  in  great  abundance,  and  many  birds  sang  very  sweetly  in 
among  the  blossoms  of  the  trees.  And  as  Sir  Gawaine  and  the  lady 
walked  thus  together,  the  attendants  stood  at  a  little  distance  and  regard- 
ed them.  And  they  said  to  one  another,  "  Assuredly  it  would  be  a  very 
good  thing  if  the  Lady  Ettard  would  take  this  knight  for  her  champion, 
and  if  he  should  stay  here  in  Grantmesnle  forever." 

So  Sir  Gawaine  and  the  lady  walked  together,  talking  very  cheerfully, 
until  sunset,  and    at   that  time  the  supper  was  prepared  and  they  went 
in  and  sat  down  to  it.    And  as  they  supped,  a  number  of  pages, 
very  fair  of  face,  played  upon  harps  before  them  ;  and  sundry    and  tk™" 


damsels  sang  very  sweetly  in  accord  to  that  music,  so  that  the    J-ady  Ettard 
bosom  of  Sir  Gawaine  was  greatly  expanded  with  joy.    Where- 
fore he  said  to  himself,  "Why  should  I  ever  leave  this  place?     Lo!  I 
have  been  banished  from  King  Arthur's  Court;  why  then  should  I  not 
establish  here  a  Court  of  mine  own  that  might,  in  time,  prove  to  be  like  to 
his  for  glory?"     And  the  Lady  Ettard  was  so  beautiful  in  his  eyes  that 
this  seemed  to  him  to  be  a  wonderfully  pleasant  thought. 

Now  turn  we  unto  Sir  Pellias  : 

For  after  Sir  Gawaine  had  left  him,  the  heart  of  Sir  Pellias  began  to 
misgive  him  that  he  had  not  been  wise  ;  and  at  last  he  said  to  himself, 
"Suppose  that  Sir  Gawaine  should  forget  his  duty  to  me 
when  he  meeteth  the  Lady  Ettard.  For  it  seems  that  haply 
she  possesses  some  potent  charm  that  might  well  draw  the 
heart  of  Sir  Gawaine  unto  her.  Wherefore  if  Sir  Gawaine  should  come 
within  the  circle  of  such  enchantment  as  that,  he  may  forget  his  duty  unto 
me  and  may  transgress  against  the  honor  of  his  knighthood." 

And  the  more  that  Sir  Pellias  thought  of  this  the  more  troubled  he  grew 
in  his  mind.  So  at  last,  when  evening  had  fallen,  he  called  an  esquire  unto 
him  and  he  said,  "  Go,  and  fetch  me  hither  the  garb  of  a  black  friar,  for  I 
would  fain  go  unto  the  castle  of  Grantmesnle  in  disguise."  So  the  esquire 
went  as  he  commanded  and  brought  him  such  a  garb,  and  Sir  Pellias  clad 
himself  therein. 


262  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

Now,  by  that  time,  the  darkness  had  come  entirely  over  the  face  of  the 
earth  so  that  it  would  not  have  been  possible  for  anyone  to  know  Sir 
Pellias,  even  if  they  had  seen  his  face.  So  he  went  unto  the  castle,  and 
they  who  were  there,  thinking  that  he  was  a  black  friar,  as  he  appeared  to 
be,  admitted  him  into  the  castle  by  the  postern  gate. 

So,  as  soon  as  Sir  Pellias  had  come  into  the  castle,  he  began  to  make 
diligent  inquiry  concerning  where  he  might  find  that  knight  who  had  come 
thither  in  the  afternoon,  and  those  within  the  castle,  still  think- 
*ng  him  to  be  a  friar  of  black  orders,  said  unto  him,  "  What 
would  ye  with  that  knight?"  To  the  which  Sir  Pellias  said, 
disguise.  tt  j  have  a  message  for  him."  They  of  the  castle  said,  "  Ye 

cannot  come  at  that  knight  just  now,  for  he  is  at  supper  with  the  Lady 
Ettard,  and  he  holds  her  in  pleasant  discourse." 

At  this  Sir  Pellias  began  to  wax  very  angry,  for  he  greatly  misliked  the 
thought  that  Sir  Gawaine  should  then  make  merry  with  the  Lady  Ettard. 
So  he  said,  speaking  very  sternly,  "  I  must  presently  have  speech  with  that 
knight,  wherefore  I  bid  ye  to  bring  me  unto  him  without  delay."  Then 
they  of  the  castle  said,  "  Wait  and  we  will  see  if  that  knight  is  willing  to 
have  you  come  to  him." 

So  one  of  the  attendants  went  unto  that  place  where  Sir  Gawaine  sat  at 
supper  with  the  Lady  Ettard,  and  he  said,  "  Sir  Knight,  there  hath  come 
hither  a  black  friar  who  demandeth  to  have  present  speech  with  thee,  and 
he  will  not  be  denied,  but  continually  maketh  that  demand." 

At  this  Sir  Gawaine  was  greatly  troubled  in  his  conscience,  for  he  knew 
that  he  was  not  dealing  honorably  by  Sir  Pellias,  and  he  pondered  whether 
or  not  this  black  friar  might  be  a  messenger  from  his  friend.  But  yet  he 
could  not  see  how  he  might  deny  such  a  messenger  speech  with  him.  So, 
after  a  while  of  thought,  he  said,  "  Fetch  the  black  friar  hither  and  let  him 
deliver  his  message  to  me." 

So  Sir  Pellias,  in  the  garb  of  a  black  friar,  was  brought  by  the  attendants 
into  the  outer  room  of  that  place  where  Sir  Gawaine  sat  at  supper  with 
the  lady.  But  fora  little  time  Sir  Pellias  did  not  enter  the  room,  but  stood 
behind  the  curtain  of  the  ante-room  and  looked  upon  them,  for  he  desired 
to  make  sure  as  to  whether  or  no  Sir  Gawaine  was  true  to  him. 

Now  everything  in  that  room  where  the  knight  and  the  lady  sat  was 
bedight  with  extraordinary  splendor,  and  it  was  illuminated  by  a  light  of 
several  score  of  waxen  tapers  that  sent  forth  a  most  delightful  perfume 
as  they  burned.  And  as  Sir  Pellias  stood  behind  the  curtains,  he  beheld 
Sir  Gawaine  and  the  Lady  Ettard  as  they  sat  at  the  table  together,  and 
he  saw  that  they  were  filled  with  pleasure  in  the  company  of  one  another. 


SfJt  PELLIAS   CONFRONTS  SIR    GAWAINE  263 

And  he  saw  that  Sir  Gawaine  and  the  lady  quaffed  wine  out  of  the  same 
chalice  and  that  the  cup  was  of  gold.  And  as  he  saw  those  two  making 
merry  with  one  another,  he  was  filled  with  great  anger  and  indignation, 
for  he  now  perceived  that  Sir  Gawaine  had  betrayed  him. 

So,  by  and  by,  he  could  contain  himself  no  longer,  wherefore  he  took 
five  steps  into  that  room  and  stood  before  Sir  Gawaine  and  the  Lady 
Ettard.  And,  when  they  looked  upon  him  in  great  surprise,  he  cast  back 
the  hood  from  his  face  and  they  knew  him.  Then  the  Lady  Ettard 
shrieked  with  great  vehemence,  crying  out,  "  I  have  been  betrayed  !  "  and 
Sir  Gawaine  sat  altogether  silent,  for  he  had  not  a  single  word  to  say 
either  to  the  lady  or  to  Sir  Pellias. 

Then  Sir  Pellias  came  close  to  the  Lady  Ettard  with  such  a  fell  coun- 
tenance that  she  could  not  move  for  fear.     And  when  he  had  come  nigh  to 
her  he  catched  that  necklace  of  emeralds  and  opal  stones  and  gold  with 
such  violence  that  he  brake  the  clasp  thereof  and  so  plucked  it  from  her 
neck.     Then  he  said,  "  This  is  mine  and  thou  hast  no  right  to  it !  "     And 
therewith  he  thrust  it  into  his  bosom.     Then  he  turned  upon  Sir  Gawaine 
where  he  sat,  and  he  said,  "  Thou  art  false  both  unto  thy  knighthood  and 
unto  thy  friendship,  for  thou  hast  betrayed  me  utterly."  There- 
upon he  raised  his  arm  and  smote  Sir  Gawaine  upon  the  face  paces' affront 
with  the  back  of  his  hand  so  violently  that  the  mark  of  his    uPort  sir  Ga~ 
fingers  was  left  in  red  all  across  the  cheek  of  Sir  Gawaine. 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  fell  as  pale  as  ashes  and  he  cried  out,  "  Sir,  I  have 
in  sooth  betrayed  thee,  but  thou  hast  offered  such  affront  to  me  that 
our  injury  is  equal."  To  the  which  Sir  Pellias  made  reply,  "Not  so; 
for  the  injury  I  gave  to  thee  is  only  upon  thy  cheek,  but  the  injury 
thou  gavest  to  me  is  upon  my  heart.  Ne'theless,  I  will  answer  unto 
thee  for  the  affront  I  have  done  thee.  But  thou  also  shalt  answer 
unto  me  for  the  offence  thou  hast  done  unto  me,  in  that  thou  hast 
betrayed  me." 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  I  am  willing  to  answer  unto  thee  in  full 
measure."  And  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  Thou  shalt  indeed  do  so."  Thereupon 
he  turned  and  left  that  place,  nor  did  he  so  much  as  look  again  either 
at  Sir  Gawaine  or  at  the  Lady  Ettard. 

But,  now  that  the  Lady  Ettard  no  longer  had  the  magic  collar  about  her 
neck,  Sir  Gawaine  felt  nothing  of  the  great  enchantment  that  had  afore- 
time drawn  him  so  vehemently  unto  her.  Accordingly,  he  now  suffered  a 
misliking  for  her  as  great  as  that  liking  which  had  aforetime  drawn  him 
unto  her.  Wherefore  he  said  to  himself,  "  How  was  it  possible  that  for 
this  lady  I  could  have  so  betrayed  my  knighthood  and  have  done  so  much 


264 


THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 


harm  unto  my  friend!"  So  he  pushed  back  his  chair  very  violently  and 
arose  from  that  table  with  intent  to  leave  her. 

But  when  the  Lady  Ettard  saw  his  intent  she  spake  to  him  with  very 
great  anger,  for  she  was  very  much  affronted  in  that  he  had  deceived  her 
when  he  said  that  he  had  overcome  Sir  Pellias.  Wherefore  she  said  with 
great  heat,  "  Thou  mayst  go,  and  I  am  very  willing  for  to 
SandGt™Lady  have  thee  do  so,  for  thou  didst  say  false  when  thou  didst  tell 
Ettard  speak  me  that  thou  hadst  overcome  Sir  Pellias.  For  now  I  perceive 
bitterly  together.  that  he  .§  both  &  stronger  and  a  nobler  knight  than  thou. 

For  he  smote  thee  as  though  thou  wert  his  servant,  and  thou  yet  bearest 
the  marks  of  his  fingers  upon  thy  cheek." 

At  this  Sir  Gawaine  was  exceedingly  wroth  and  entirely  filled  with  the 
shame  of  that  which  had  befallen  him,  wherefore  he  said,  "  Lady,  I  think 
thou  hast  bewitched  me  to  bring  me  to  such  a  pass  of  dishonor.  As  for 
Sir  Pellias,  look  forth  into  that  meadow  to-morrow  and  see  if  I  do  not  put 
a  deeper  mark  upon  him  than  ever  he  hath  put  upon  me."  Thereupon  he 
left  that  place  and  went  down  into  the  court-yard  and  called  upon  the 
attendants  who  were  there  for  to  fetch  him  his  horse.  So  they  did  as  he 
commanded  and  he  straightway  rode  forth  into  the  night. 

And  he  was  very  glad  of  the  darkness  of  the  night,  for  it  appeared  to 
him  that  it  was  easier  to  bear  his  shame  in  the  darkness,  wherefore  when 
he  had  come  to  the  glade  of  trees  he  would  not  enter  the  pavilion  where 
his  friends  were.  And  also,  when  Sir  Ewaine  and  Sir  Marhaus  came  out 
unto  him  and  bade  him  to  come  in,  he  would  not  do  so,  but  stayed  without 
in  the  darkness  ;  for  he  said  unto  himself,  "  If  I  go  in  where  is  a  light, 
haply  they  will  behold  the  mark  of  Sir  Pellias  his  hand  upon  my  face." 

So  he  stayed  without  in  the  darkness  and  bade  them  to  go  away  and 
leave  him  alone. 

But  when  they  had  gone  he  called  his  esquire  unto  him  and  he  said, 
*'  Take  this  red  armor  off  me  and  carry  it  into  the  pavilion  of  Sir  Pellias, 
for  I  hate  it."  So  the  esquire  did  as  Sir  Gawaine  commanded,  and  Sir 
Gawaine  walked  up  and  down  for  the  entire  night,  greatly  troubled  in 
spirit  and  in  heart. 


toLaftyof  fheLaBe 
finite  S*Peioaer 


Chapter  Sixth. 


How  the  Lady  of  the  Lake  Took  Back  Her  Necklace  From 

Sir  Pellias. 

NOW,  when  the  next  morning  had  come,  Sir  Gawaine  summoned 
his  esquire  unto  him  and  said,  "  Fetch  hither  my  armor  and 
case  me  in  it."     And  the  esquire  did  so.     Then  Sir  Gawaine 
said,  "  Help  me  unto  my  horse,"  and  the  esquire  did  so.     And  the  morn- 
ing  was  still  very  early,  with  the  grass  all  lustrous  and  sparkling  with 
dew,  and  the  little  birds  singing  with  such  vehemence  that  it  might  have 
caused  anyone  great  joy  to  be  alive.     Wherefore,  when  Sir  Gawaine  was 
seated  a-horseback  and   in  armor,  he  began  to  take  more  courage  unto 
himself,  and  the  dark  vapors  that  had  whilom  overshadowed  him  lifted 
themselves  a  little.     So  he  bespoke  his  esquire  with  stronger 

_  .          .  r        .  ,  Sir  Gawaine 

voice,  saying,  "  Take  this  glove  of  mine  and  bear  it  to  Sir  issues  challenge 
Pellias  and  tell  him  that  Sir  Gawaine  parades  in  the  meadow   to  sir  Pellias- 
in  front  of  the  castle  and  that  he  there  challenges  Sir  Pellias  for  to  meet 
him  a-horse  or  afoot,  howsoever  that  knight  may  choose." 

At  these  that  esquire  was  very  much  astonished,  for  Sir  Gawaine  and 
Sir  Pellias  had  always  been  such  close  friends  that  there  was  hardly  their 
like  for  friendship  in  all  that  land,  wherefore  their  love  for  one  another 
had  become  a  byword  with  all  men.  But  he  held  his  peace  concerning  his 
thoughts  and  only  said,  "  Wilt  thou  not  eat  food  ere  thou  goest  to  battle  ?  " 
And  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  Nay,  I  will  not  eat  until  I  have  fought.  Where- 
fore do  thou  go  and  do  as  I  have  bid  thee." 

So  Sir  Gawaine's  esquire  went  to  Sir  Pellias  in  his  pavilion  and  he  gave 
unto  that  knight  the  glove  of  Sir  Gawaine,  and  he  delivered  Sir  Gawaine's 
message  to  him.  And  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  Tell  thy  master  that  I  will  come 
forth  to  meet  him  as  soon  as  I  have  broken  my  fast." 

Now,  when  the  news  of  that  challenge  had  come  to  the  ears  of  Sir  Bran- 
diles  and  Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte  and  Sir  Ewaine  and  Sir  Marhaus,  those 


268  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

knights  were  greatly  disturbed  thereat,  and  Sir  Ewaine  said  to  the  others, 
"  Messires,  let  us  go  and  make  inquiries  concerning  this  business."  So 
the  four  knights  went  to  the  white  pavilion  where  Sir  Pellias  was  break- 
ing his  fast. 

And  when  they  had  come  into  the  presence  of  Sir  Pellias,  Sir  Ewaine 
said  to  him,  "  What  is  this  quarrel  betwixt  my  kinsman  and  thee  ?  "  And 
Sir  Pellias  made  reply,  "  I  will  not  tell  thee,  so,  let  be  and  meddle  not 
with  it." 

Then  Sir  Ewaine  said,  "  Wouldst  thou  do  serious  battle  with  thy  friend?" 
To  which  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  He  is  a  friend  to  me  no  longer." 

Then  Sir  Brandiles  cried  out,  "  It  is  a  great  pity  that  a  quarrel  should 
lie  betwixt  such  friends  as  thou  and  Sir  Gawaine.  Wilt  thou  not  let  us 
make  peace  betwixt  you  ? "  But  Sir  Pellias  replied,  "  Ye  cannot  make 
peace,  for  this  quarrel  cannot  be  stayed  until  it  is  ended." 

Then  those  knights  saw  that  their  words  could  be  of  no  avail  and  they 
went  away  and  left  Sir  Pellias. 

So  when  Sir  Pellias  had  broken  his  fast  he  summoned  an  esquire  named 
Montenoir,  and  he  bade  him  case  him  in  that  red  armor  that  he  had  worn 
for  all  this  time,  and  Montenoir  did  so.  Then,  when  Sir  Pellias  was  clad 
in  that  armor,  he  rode  forth  into  the  meadow  before  the  castle  where  Sir 
Gawaine  paraded.  And  when  he  had  come  thither  those  four  other 
knights  came  to  him  again  and  besought  him  that  he  would  let  peace 
be  made  betwixt  him  and  Sir  Gawaine,  but  Sir  Pellias  would  not  listen  to 
them,  and  so  they  went  away  again  and  left  him,  and  he  rode  forth  into 
the  field  before  the  castle  of  Grantmesnle. 

Now  a  great  concourse  of  people  had  come  down  upon  the  castle  Wctlls 
for  to  behold  that  assault-at-arms,  for  news  thereof  had  gone  all  about  that 
place.  And  it  had  also  come  to  be  known  that  the  knight  that  would  do 
combat  with  Sir  Pellias  was  that  very  famous  royal  knight  hight  Sir 
Gawaine,  the  son  of  King  Lot  of  Orkney,  and  a  nephew  of  King  Arthur; 
wherefore  all  the  people  were  very  desirous  to  behold  so  famous  a  knight 
do  battle. 

Likewise  the  Lady  Ettard  came  down  to  the  walls  and  took  her  stand 
in  a  lesser  tower  that  overlooked  the  field  of  battle.  And  when  she  had 
taken  her  stand  at  that  place  she  beheld  that  Sir  Pellias  wore  that  neck- 
lace of  emeralds  and  opal  stones  and  gold  above  his  body  armor,  and  her 
heart  went  out  to  him  because  of  it,  wherefore  she  hoped  that  he  might 
be  the  victor  in  that  encounter. 

Then  each  knight  took  his  station  in  such  place  as  seemed  to  him  to  be 
fitting,  and  they  dressed  each  his  spear  and  his  shield  and  made  him  ready 


SIX  PELLIAS   OVERTHROWS  SIR    GAWAINE  269 

for  the  assault.     Then,  when  they  were  in  all  ways  prepared,  Sir  Marhaus 

gave  the  signal  for  the  assault.     Thereupon  each  knight  in- 

stantly  quitted  that  station  which  he  held,  dashing  against  the  Sir  Gawain? 

other  with  the  speed  of  lightning,  and  with  such  fury  that  the  dobattle- 

earth  thundered  and  shook  beneath  their  horses'  hoofs.     So  they  met  fairly 

in  the  centre  of  the  course,  each  knight  striking  the  other  in  the  very  midst 

of  his  defences.     And  in  that  encounter  the  spear  of  Sir  Gawaine  burst 

even  to  the  hand-guard,  but  the  spear  of  Sir  Pellias  held,  so 

that  Sir  Gawaine  was  cast  out  of  his  saddle  with  terrible  vio-   overthrbweth 

lence,  smiting  the  earth  with  such  force  that  he  rolled  thrice    sir  Gawaine- 

over  in  the  dust  and  then  lay  altogether  motionless  as  though  bereft  of  life. 

At  this,  all  those  people  upon  the  walls  shouted  with  a  great  voice,  for 
it  was  an  exceedingly  noble  assault-at-arms. 

Then  the  four  knights  who  stood  watching  that  encounter  made  all  haste 
unto  Sir  Gawaine  where  he  lay  ;  and  Sir  Pellias  also  rode  back  and  sat  his 
horse  nigh  at  hand.  Then  Sir  Ewaine  and  Sir  Gawaine's  esquire  unlaced 
the  helmet  of  Sir  Gawaine  with  all  speed,  and,  behold !  his  face  was  the 
color  of  ashes  and  they  could  not  see  that  he  breathed. 

Thereupon  Sir  Marhaus  said,  "  I  believe  that  thou  hast  slain  this  knight, 
Sir  Pellias,"  and  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  Dost  thou  think  so?"  "Yea,"  quoth 
Sir  Marhaus,  "and  I  deem  it  a  great  pity."  Unto  which  Sir  Pellias  made 
reply,  "  He  hath  not  suffered  more  than  he  deserved." 

At  these  words  Sir  Ewaine  was  filled  with  great  indignation,  wherefore 
he  cried  out,  "  Sir  Knight,  I  think  that  thou  forgettest  the  quality  of  this 
knight.  For  not  only  is  he  a  fellow-companion  of  the  Round  Table,  to 
whom  thou  hast  vowed  entire  brotherhood,  but  he  is  also  the  son  of  a 
king  and  the  nephew  of  King  Arthur  himself." 

But  to  this  Sir  Pellias  maintained  a  very  steadfast  countenance  and 
replied,  "  I  would  not  repent  me  of  this  were  that  knight  a  king  in  his  own 
right  instead  of  the  son  of  a  king." 

Then  Sir  Ewaine  lifted  up  his  voice  with  great  indignation,  crying  out 
upon  Sir  Pellias,  "  Begone  !  or  a  great  ill  may  befall  thee."  "  Well,"  said 
Sir  Pellias,  "  I  will  go." 

Upon  this  he  turned  his  horse  and  rode  away  from  that  place  and 
entered  the  woodland  and  so  was  gone  from  their  sight. 

Then  those  others  present  lifted  up  Sir  Gawaine  and  bare  him  away 
unto  the  pavilion  late  of  Sir  Pellias,  and  there  they  laid  him  upon  the  couch 
of  Sir  Pellias.  But  it  was  above  an  hour  ere  he  recovered 
himself  again ;  and  for  a  great  part  of  that  while  those  nigh 
unto  him  believed  him  to  have  been  dead. 


270 


THE  STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 


But  not  one  of  those  knights  wist  what  was  the  case;  to  wit,  that  Sir 
Pellias  had  been  so  sorely  wounded  in  the  side  in  that  encounter  that  it 
Sir  Pellias  is  was  not  to  ^e  n°Pecl  that  he  could  live  for  more  than  that  day. 
sore  wounded.  por>  though  the  spear  of  Sir  Gawaine  had  burst,  and  though 
Sir  Pellias  had  overthrown  him  entirely,  yet  the  head  of  Sir  Gawaine's 
spear  had  pierced  the  armor  of  Sir  Pellias,  and  had  entered  his  side  and 
had  there  broken  off,  so  that  of  the  iron  of  the  spear,  the  length  of  the 
breadth  of  a  palm  had  remained  in  the  body  of  Sir  Pellias  a  little  above 
the  midriff.  Wherefore,  while  Sir  Pellias  sat  there  talking  so  steadfastly 
unto  those  four  knights,  he  was  yet  whiles  in  a  great  passion  of  pain,  and 
the  blood  ran  down  into  his  armor  in  abundance.  So,  what  with  the  loss 
of  the  blood,  and  of  the  great  agony  which  he  suffered,  the  brain  of  Sir 
Pellias  swam  as  light  as  a  feather  all  the  time  that  he  held  talk  with  those 
others.  But  he  said  not  a  word  unto  them  concerning  the  grievous 
wound  he  had  received,  but  rode  away  very  proudly  into  the  forest. 

But  when  he  had  come  into  the  forest  he  could  not  forbear  him  any 
longer,  but  fell  to  groaning  very  sorely,  crying  out,  "  Alas !  alas !  I  have 
certes  got  my  death-wound  in  this  battle  ! " 

Now  it  chanced  that  morn  that  the  damsel  Parcenet  had  ridden  forth  to 
fly  a  young  gerfalcon,  and  a  dwarf  belonging  to  the  Lady  Ettard  had 
ridden  with  her  for  company.  So,  as  the  damsel  and  the  dwarf  rode 
through  a  certain  part  of  the  forest  skirt,  not  a  very  great  distance  from 
Grantmesnle,  where  the  thicker  part  of  the  woodland  began  and  the  thin- 
ner part  thereof  ceased,  the  damsel  heard  a  voice  in  the  woodlands, 
lamenting  with  very  great  dolor.  So  she  stopped  and  harkened,  and  by 
and  by  she  heard  that  voice  again  making  a  great  moan.  Then  Par- 
cenet said  to  the  dwarf,  "What  is  that  I  hear?  Certes,  it  is  the  voice 
of  someone  in  lamentation.  Now  let  us  go  and  see  who  it  is  that 
maketh  such  woful  moan."  And  the  dwarf  said,  "  It  shall  be  as  thou 
sayest." 

So  the  damsel  and  the  dwarf  went  a  little  way  farther  and  there  they 
beheld  a  knight  sitting  upon  a  black  horse  beneath  an  oak-tree.  And  that 
knight  was  clad  altogether  in  red  armor,  wherefore,  Parcenet 
findetk  Sir  Pel-  knew  that  it  must  be  Sir  Pellias.  And  she  saw  that  Sir  Pel- 
^as  ^eane<^  w^\\  tne  butt  of  his  spear  upon  the  ground  and  so 
upheld  himself  upon  his  horse  from  which  he  would  otherwise 
have  fallen  because  of  his  great  weakness,  and  all  the  while  he  made  that 
great  moan  that  Parcenet  had  heard.  So,  seeing  him  in  this  sorry  con- 
dition, Parcenet  was  overcome  with  great  pity,  and  she  made  haste  to  him 
crying  out,  "  Alas  !  Sir  Pellias,  what  ails  thee  ?" 


SIX  PELLIAS   CONFESSES  HIS    WOUND    TO  PARCENET       271 

Then  Sir  Pellias  looked  at  her  as  though  she  were  a  great  way  removed 
from  him,  and,  because  of  the  faintness  of  his  soul,  he  beheld  her,  as  it 
were,  through  thin  water.  And  he  said,  very  faintly,  "  Maiden,  I  am  sore 
hurt."  Thereupon  she  said,  "  How  art  thou  hurt,  Sir  Pellias?"  And  he 
replied,  "  I  have  a  grievous  wound  in  my  side,  for  a  spear's  point  standeth 
therein  nigh  a  palm's  breadth  deep  so  that  it  reaches  nearly  to  my  heart, 
wherefore,  meseems  that  I  shall  not  live  for  very  long." 

Upon  this  the  maiden  cried  out,  "Alas !  alas !  what  is  this ! "  and  she 
made  great  lament  and  smote  her  hands  together  with  sorrow  that  that 
noble  knight  should  have  come  to  so  grievous  an  extremity. 

Then  the  dwarf  that  was  with  Parcenet,  seeing  how  greatly  she  was 
distracted  by  sorrow,  said,  "  Damsel,  I  know  of  a  certain  place  in  this 
forest  (albeit  it  is  a  considerable  distance  from  this)  where  there  dwell- 
eth  a  certain  very  holy  hermit  who  is  an  extraordinarily  skilful  leech. 
Now,  an  we  may  bring  this  knight  unto  the  chapel  where  that  hermit 
dwelleth,  I  believe  that  he  may  be  greatly  holpen  unto  health  and  ease 
again." 

Upon  this  Parcenet  said,  "Gansaret" — for  Gansaret  was  the  dwarf's 
name — "  Gansaret,  let  us  take  this  knight  unto  that  place  as  quickly  as  we 
are  able.  For  I  tell  thee  sooth  when  I  say  that  I  have  a  very  great  deal 
of  love  for  him."  "  Well,"  said  the  dwarf,  "  1  will  show  thee  where  that 
chapel  is." 

So  the  dwarf  took  the  horse  of  Sir  Pellias  by  the  bridle-rein  and  led  the 
way  through  that  forest,  and  Parcenet  rode  beside  Sir  Pellias  and  upheld 
him  upon  his  saddle.  For  some  whiles  Sir  Pellias  fainted  with  sickness 
and  with  pain  so  that  he  would  else  have  fallen  had  she  not  upheld  him. 
Thus  they  went  forward  very  sorrowfully  and  at  so  slow  a  pace  that  it 
was  noontide  ere  they  came  to  that  certain  very  dense  and  lonely  part  of 
the  forest  where  the  hermit  abided. 

And  when  they  had  come  unto  that  place  the  dwarf  said,  "  Yonder, 
damsel,  is  the  chapel  whereof  I  spake." 

Then  Parcenet  lifted  up  her  eyes  and  she  beheld  where  was  a  little 
woodland  chapel  built  in  among  the  leafy  trees  of  the  forest.  And  around 
this  chapel  was  a  little  open  lawn  bedight  with  flowers,  and  nigh  to  the 
door  of  the  hermitage  was  a  fountain  of  water  as  clear  as  crystal.  And 
this  was  a  very  secret  and  lonely  place  and  withal  very  silent  and  peaceful, 
for  in  front  of  the  chapel  they  beheld  a  wild  doe  and  her  fawn  browsing 
upon  the  tender  grass  and  herbs  without  any  fear  of  harm.  And  when  the 
dwarf  and  the  maiden  and  the  wounded  knight  drew  nigh,  the  doe  and  the 
fawn  looked  up  with  great  wide  eyes  and  spread  their  large  ears  with 


272  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

wonder,  yet  fled  not,  fearing  no  harm,  but  by  and  by  began  their  browsing 
again.  Likewise  all  about  the  chapel  in  the  branches  of  the  trees  were 
great  quantities  of  birds,  singing  and  chirping  very  cheerfully.  And  those 
birds  were  waiting  for  their  mid-day  meal  that  the  hermit  was  used  to 
cast  unto  them. 

(Now  this  was  that  same  forest  sanctuary  whereunto  King  Arthur  had 
come  that  time  when  he  had  been  so  sorely  wounded  by  Sir  Pellinore  as 
hath  been  aforetold  in  this  history.) 

As  the  maiden  and  the  dwarf  and  the  wounded  knight  drew  nigh  to  this 
chapel,  a  little  bell  began  ringing  very  sweetly  so  that  the  sound  thereof 
echoed  all  through  those  quiet  woodlands,  for  it  was  now  the  hour  of  noon. 
And  Sir  Pellias  heard  that  bell  as  it  were  a  great  way  off,  and  first  he  said, 
"Whither  am  I  come?"  and  then  he  made  shift  to  cross  himself.  And 
Parcenet  crossed  herself  and  the  dwarf  kneeled  down  and  crossed  himself. 
Then  when  the  bell  had  ceased  ringing,  the  dwarf  cried  out  in  a  loud 
voice,  "  What  ho !  what  ho !  here  is  one  needing  help !  " 

Then  the  door  of  the  sanctuary  was  opened  and  there  came  forth  from 
that  place  a  very  venerable  man  with  a  long  white  beard  as  it  were  of 
Parcenet  and  the  nnely  carded  wool.  And,  lo !  as  he  came  forth,  all  those 
dwarf  bring  sir  birds  that  waited  there  flew  about  him  in  great  quantities,  for 
termite/the  tney  thought  that  he  had  come  forth  for  to  feed  them  ;  where- 
forest.  fore  the  hermit  was  compelled  to  brush  those  small  fowls  away 

with  his  hands  as  he  came  unto  where  the  three  were  stationed. 

And  when  he  had  come  unto  them  he  demanded  of  them  who  they  were 
and  why  they  had  come  thither  with  that  wounded  knight.  So  Parcenet 
told  him  how  it  was  with  them,  and  of  how  they  had  found  Sir  Pellias  so 
sorely  wounded  in  the  forest  that  morning  and  had  brought  him  hither- 
ward. 

Then,  when  the  hermit  had  heard  all  of  her  story,  he  said,  "  It  is  well 
and  I  will  take  him  in."  So  he  took  Sir  Pellias  into  his  cell,  and  when  they 
had  helped  lay  him  upon  the  couch,  Parcenet  and  the  dwarf  went  their 
way  homeward  again. 

After  they  had  gone,  the  hermit  examined  the  hurt  of  Sir  Pellias,  and  Sir 
Pellias  lay  in  a  deep  swoon.  And  the  swoon  was  so  deep  that  the  hermit 
beheld  that  it  was  the  death-swoon,  and  that  the  knight  was  nigh  to  his  end.' 
So  he  said,  "  This  knight  must  assuredly  die  in  a  very  little  while,  for  I  can 
do  naught  to  save  him."  Wherefore  he  immediately  quitted  the  side  of 
Sir  Pellias  and  set  about  in  haste  to  prepare  the  last  sacrament  such  as 
might  be  administered  unto  a  noble  knight  who  was  dying. 

Now  whiles  the  hermit  was  about  this  business  the  door  opened  of  a 


THE  LADY  NYMUE    VISITS  SIR  PELLIAS  273 

sudden  and  there  came  into  that  place  a  very  strange  lady  clad  all  in  green 
and  bedight  around  the  arms  with  armlets  of  emeralds  and 
opal  stones  inset  into  gold.     And  her  hair,  which  was  very  L^ZmatS* 
soft,  was  entirely  black  and  was  tied  about  with  a  cord  of  Sir  Pellias- 
crimson  ribbon.     And  the  hermit  beheld  that  her  face  was  like  to  ivory 
for  whiteness  and  that  her  eyes  were  bright,  like  unto  jewels  set  into  ivory, 
wherefore  he  knew  that  she  was  no  ordinary  mortal. 

And  this  lady  went  straight  to  Sir  Pellias  and  leaned  over  him  so  that 
her  breath  touched  his  forehead.  And  she  said,  "  Alas !  Sir  Pellias,  that 
thou  shouldst  lie  so."  "  Lady,"  said  the  hermit,  "  thou  mayst  well  say 
'  Alas/  for  this  knight  hath  only  a  few  minutes  to  live."  To  this  the  lady 
said,  "  Not  so,  thou  holy  man,  for  I  tell  thee  that  this  knight  shall  have  a 
long  while  yet  to  live."  And  when  she  had  said  this  she  stooped  and  took 
from  about  his  neck  that  necklace  of  emeralds  and  opal  stones  and  gold 
that  encircled  it  and  she  hung  it  about  her  own  neck. 

Now  when  the  hermit  beheld  what  she  did,  he  said,  "  Lady,  what  is  this 
that  thou  doest,  and  why  dost  thou  take  that  ornament  from  a  dying  man  ?  " 

But  the  lady  made  reply  very  tranquilly,  "  I  gave  it  unto  him,  where- 
fore I  do  but  take  back  again  what  is  mine  own.  But  now  I  prithee  let 
me  be  with  this  knight  for  a  little  while,  for  I  have  great  hope  that  I  may 
bring  back  life  unto  him  again." 

Then  the  hermit  was  a-doubt  and  he  said,  "  Wilt  thou  endeavor  to  heal 
him  by  magic?"  And  the  lady  said,  "If  I  do,  it  will  not  be  by  magic  that 
is  black." 

So  the  hermit  was  satisfied  and  went  away,  and  left  the  lady  alone  with 
Sir  Pellias. 

Now  when  the  lady  was  thus  alone  with  the  wounded  knight  she  imme- 
diately set  about  doing  sundry  very  strange  things.  For  first  she  brought 
forth  a  loadstone  of  great  power  and  potency  and  this  she  set  to  the 
wound.  And,  lo!  the  iron  of  the  spear-head  came  forth  from  the  wound  ; 
and  as  it  came  Sir  Pellias  groaned  with  great  passion.  And  when  the 
spear-point  came  forth  there  burst  out  a  great  issue  of  blood  like  to 
a  fountain  of  crimson.  But  the  lady  immediately  pressed  a  fragrant  nap- 
kin of  fine  cambric  linen  to  the  wound  and  stanched  the  blood,  and  it  bled 
no  more,  for  she  held  it  within  the  veins  by  very  potent  spells  of  magic. 
So,  the  blood  being  stanched  in  this  wise,  the  lady  brought  TJu  Lady  ^  ihe 
forth  from  her  bosom  a  small  crystal  phial  filled  with  an  elixir  ^'g*^ 
of  blue  color  and  of  a  very  singular  fragrance.  And  she 
poured  some  of  this  elixir  between  the  cold  and  leaden  lips  of  the  knight ; 
and  when  the  elixir  touched  his  lips  the  life  began  to  enter  into  his  body 


274  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

once  more ;  for,  in  a  little  while,  he  opened  his  eyes  and  gazed  about  him 
with  a  very  strange  look,  and  the  first  thing  that  he  beheld  was  that  lady 
clad  in  green  who  stood  beside  him,  and  she  was  so  beautiful  that  he 
thought  that  haply  he  had  died  and  was  in  Paradise,  wherefore  he  said, 
"  Am  I  then  dead  ?  " 

"  Nay,  thou  art  not  dead,"  said  the  lady,  "  yet  hast  thou  been  parlously 
nigh  to  death."  "  Where  then  am  I  ?  "  said  Sir  Pellias.  And  she  replied, 
"  Thou  art  in  a  deep  part  of  the  forest,  and  this  is  the  cell  of  a  saint-like 
hermit  of  the  forest."  At  this  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  Who  is  it  that  hath  brought 
me  back  to  life  ?"  Upon  this  the  lady  smiled  and  said,  "  It  was  I." 

Now  for  a  little  while  Sir  Pellias  lay  very  silent,  then  by  and  by  he 
spake  and  said,  "  Lady,  I  feel  very  strangely."  "  Yea,"  said  the  lady, 
"  that  is  because  thou  hast  now  a  different  life."  Then  Sir  Pellias  said, 
"  How  is  it  with  me  ?  "  And  the  lady  said,  "  It  is  thus :  that  to  bring  thee 
back  to  life  I  gave  thee  to  drink  of  a  certain  draught  of  an  elixir  vita  so 
that  thou  art  now  only  half  as  thou  wert  before ;  for  if  by  the  one  half  thou 
art  mortal,  by  the  other  half  thou  art  fay.*' 

Then  Sir  Pellias  looked  up  and  beheld  that  the  lady  had  about  her  neck 
the  collar  of  emeralds  and  opal  stones  and  gold  which  he  had 

Sir  Pellias  A . 

loveth  the  Lady  aforetime  worn.  And,  lo!  his  heart  went  out  to  her  with  ex- 
of the  Lake.  ceeding  ardor,  and  he  said,  "Lady,  thou  sayest  that  I  am  half 
fay,  and  I  do  perceive  that  thou  art  altogether  fay.  Now,  I  pray  thee  to 
let  it  be  that  henceforth  I  may  abide  nigh  unto  where  thou  art.*'  And  the 
lady  said,  "  It  shall  be  as  thou  dost  ask,  for  it  was  to  that  end  I  have  suf- 
fered thee  nearly  to  die,  and  then  have  brought  thee  back  unto  life  again." 

Then  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  When  may  I  go  with  thee?  "  And  she  said,  "  In 
a  little  when  thou  hast  had  to  drink."  "  How  may  that  be  ? "  said  Sir 
Pellias,  "  seeing  that  I  am  but  yet  like  unto  a  little  child  for  weakness.'' 
To  the  which  the  lady  made  reply,  "  When  thou  hast  drunk  of  water  thy 
strength  shall  return  unto  thee,  and  thou  shalt  be  altogether  well  and 
whole  again." 

So  the  Lady  of  the  Lake  went  out,  and  presently  returned,  bearing  in 
her  hand  an  earthen  crock  filled  with  water  from  the  fountain  near  at 
hand.  And  when  Sir  Pellias  had  drunk  that  water  he  felt,  of  a  sudden, 
his  strength  come  altogether  back  to  him. 

Yet  he  was  not  at  all  as  he  had  been  before,  for  now  his  body  felt  as  light 
as  air,  and  his  soul  was  dilated  with  a  pure  joy  such  as  he  had  never  felt 
in  his  life  before  that  time.  Wherefore  he  immediately  uprose  from  his 
couch  of  pain,  and  he  said,  "  Thou  hast  given  life  unto  me  again,  now  do  I 
give  that  life  unto  thee  forever." 


PARCENET  BRINGS  NEWS   OF  SIR  PELLIAS  275 

Then  the  lady  looked  upon  him  and  smiled  with  great  loving-kindness. 
And  she  said,  "Sir  Pellias,  I  have  held  thee  in  tender  regard  ever  since  I 
beheld  thee  one  day  in  thy  young  knighthood  drink  a  draught  of  milk  at  a 
cottager's  hut  in  this  forest.  For  the  day  was  warm  and  thou  hadst  set  aside 
thy  helmet,  and  a  young  milkmaid,  brown  of  face  and  with  bare  feet,  came 
and  brought  thee  a  bowl  of  milk,  which  same  thou  didst  drink  of  with  great 
appetite.  That  was  the  first  time  that  I  beheld  thee — although  thou  didst 
not  see  me.  Since  that  time  I  have  had  great  friendship  for  all  thy  fellowship 
of  King  Arthur's  Court  and  for  King  Arthur  himself,  all  for  thy  sake." 

Then  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  Lady,  wilt  thou  accept  me  for  thy  knight?  "and 
she  said,  "  Aye."  Then  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  May  I  salute  thee  ?"  And  she 
said,  "  Yea,  if  it  pleasures  thee."  So  Sir  Pellias  kissed  her  upon  the  lips, 
and  so  their  troth  was  plighted. 

Now  return  we  unto  Parcenet  and  the  dwarf: 

After  those  two  had  left  that  hermitage  in  the  woodland,  they  betook 
their  way  again  toward  Grantmesnle,  and  when  they  had  come  nigh  out  of 
the  forest  at  a  place  not  far  from  the  glade  of  trees  wherein  parcenet  bring. 
those  knights-companion  had  taken  up  their  inn,  they  met  eth  news  of  sir 

f  . ,  i      .    ,  ,        ij.       tir  j    Ai     x   i      •     i  Pellias  to  Sir 

one  of  those  knights  clad  in  half-armor,  and  that  knight  was    Motor  de  la 
Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte.     Then  Parcenet  called  upon  him  by    Porte- 
name,  saying,  "  Alas  !  Sir  Mador,  I  have  but  this  short  time  quitted  a  her- 
mit's cell  in  the  forest  where  I  left  Sir  Pellias  sorely  wounded  to  death,  so 
I  fear  me  he  hath  only  a  little  while  to  live." 

Then  Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte  cried  out,  "Ha !  maiden,  what  is  this  thou 
tellest  me  ?  That  is  a  very  hard  thing  to  believe ;  for  when  Sir  Pellias 
quitted  us  this  morn  he  gave  no  sign  of  wound  or  disease  of  any  sort." 

But  Parcenet  replied,  "  Ne'theless,  I  myself  beheld  him  lying  in  great 
pain  and  dole,  and,  ere  he  swooned  his  death-swoon,  he  himself  told  me 
that  he  had  the  iron  of  a  spear  in  his  side." 

Then  Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte  said,  "  Alas  !  alas !  that  is  sorry  news ! 
Now,  damsel,  by  thy  leave  and  grace,  I  will  leave  thee  and  hasten  to  my 
companions  to  tell  them  this  news."  And  Parcenet  said,  "  I  prithee  do 
so." 

So  Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte  made  haste  to  the  pavilion  where  were  his 
companions,  and  he  told  them  the  news  that  he  had  heard. 

Now  at  this  time  Sir  Gawaine  was  altogether  recovered  from  the 
violent  overthrow  he  had  suffered  that  morning,  wherefore  when  he  heard 
the  news  that  Sir  Mador  de  la  Porte  brought  to  him,  he  smote  his  hands 
together  and  cried  out  aloud,  "  Woe  is  me  !  what  have  I  done  !  For  first 


276 


THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 


I  betrayed  my  friend,  and  now  I  have  slain  him.  Now  I  will  go  forth 
straightway  to  find  him  and  to  crave  his  forgiveness  ere  he  die." 

But  Sir  Ewaine  said,  "  What  is  this  that  thou  wouldst  do?  Thou  art 
not  yet  fit  to  undertake  any  journey." 

Sir  Gawaine  said,  *'  I  care  not,  for  I  am  determined  to  go  and  find  my 
friend."  Nor  would  he  suffer  any  of  his  companions  to  accompany  him  ; 
but  when  he  had  summoned  his  esquire  to  bring  him  his  horse, 
he  mounted  thereon  and  rode  away  into  the  forest  alone,  be- 

Pfiiias.  taking  his  way  to  the  westward,  and  lamenting  with  great 
sorrow  as  he  journeyed  forward. 

Now  when  the  afternoon  had  fallen  very  late,  so  that  the  sun  was  slop- 
ing to  its  setting,  and  the  light  fell  as  red  as  fire  through  the  forest  leaves, 
Sir  Gawaine  came  to  that  hermit's  cell  where  it  stood  in  the  silent  and 
solitary  part  of  the  forest  woodland.  And  he  beheld  that  the  hermit  was 
outside  of  his  cell  digging  in  a  little  garden  of  lentils.  So  when  the  hermit 
saw  the  armed  knight  come  into  that  lawn  all  in  the  red  light  of  the  setting 
sun,  he  stopped  digging  and  leaned  upon  his  trowel.  Then  Sir  Gawaine 
drew  nigh,  and,  as  he  sat  upon  his  horse,  he  told  the  holy  man  of  the  busi- 
ness whereon  he  had  come. 

To  this  the  hermit  said,  "  There  came  a  lady  hither  several  hours  ago, 
and  she  was  clad  all  in  green,  and  was  of  a  very  singular  appearance,  so  that 
it  was  easy  to  see  that  she  was  fay.  And  by  means  of  certain  charms 
of  magic  that  lady  cured  thy  friend,  and  after  she  had  healed  him,  the  two 
rode  away  into  the  forest  together." 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  was  very  much  amazed,  and  he  said,  "  This  is  a  very 
strange  thing  that  thou  tellest  me,  that  a  knight  who  is  dying  should  be 
brought  back  to  life  again  in  so  short  a  time,  and  should  so  suddenly  ride 
forth  from  a  bed  of  pain.  Now,  I  prithee  tell  me  whither  they  went."  The 
hermit  said,  "  They  went  to  the  westward."  Whereupon,  when  Sir 
Gawaine  heard  this,  he  said,  "  I  will  follow  them." 

So  he  rode  away  and  left  the  hermit  gazing  after  him.  And  as  he  rode 
forward  upon  his  way,  the  twilight  began  to  fall  apace,  so  that  the  wood- 
lands after  a  while  grew  very  dark  and  strange  all  around  him.  But  as  the 
S'r  G  aine  darkness  descended  a  very  singular  miracle  happened,  for,  lo ! 
follows  a  singu-  there  appeared  before  Sir  Gawaine,  a  light  of  a  pale  blue 
lar  light.  color,  and  it  went  before  him  and  showed  him  the  way,  and 

he  followed  it,  much  marvelling. 

Now  after  he  had  followed  the  light  for  a  very  long  time  he  came  at 
last,  of  a  sudden,  to  where  the  woodland  ceased,  and  where  there  was  a 
wide,  open  plain  of  very  great  extent.  And  this  plain  was  all  illuminated 


SIR    GAWAINE  PARTS  FROM  SIR  PELLIAS  277 

by  a  singular  radiance  which  was  like  that  of  a  clear  full  moonlight,  albeit 
no  moon  was  shining  at  that  time.  And  in  that  pale  and  silver  light  Sir 
Gawaine  could  see  everything  with  wonderful  distinctness ;  wherefore  he 
beheld  that  he  was  in  a  plain  covered  all  over  with  flowers  of  divers 
sorts,  the  odors  whereof  so  filled  the  night  that  it  appeared  to  press  upon 
the  bosom  with  a  great  pleasure.  And  he  beheld  that  in  front  of  him  lay 
a  great  lake,  very  wide  and  still.  And  all  those  things  appeared  so  strange 
in  that  light  that  Sir  Gawaine  wotted  that  he  had  come  into  a  land  of 
faery.  So  he  rode  among  tall  flowers  toward  that  lake  in  a  sort  of  fear, 
for  he  wist  not  what  was  to  befall  him. 

Now  as  he  drew  near  the  lake  he  perceived  a  knight  and  a  lady  ap- 
proaching him ;  and  when  they  had  come  nigh  he  beheld  that  the  knight 
was  Sir  Pellias,  and  that  his  countenance  was  exceedingly  strange.  And 
he  beheld  that  the  lady  was  she  whom  he  had  aforetime  seen  all  clad  in 
green  apparel  when  he  had  travelled  in  the  Forest  of  Adventure  with  Sir 
Ewaine  and  Sir  Marhaus. 

Now  when  Sir  Gawaine  first  beheld  Sir  Pellias  he  was  filled  with  a  great 
fear,  for  he  thought  it  was  a  spirit  that  he  saw.  But  when  he  perceived 
that  Sir  Pellias  was  alive,  there  came  into  his  bosom  a  joy  as  great  as  that 
fear  had  been;  wherefore  he  made  haste  toward  Sir  Pellias.  And  when  he 
had  come  near  to  Sir  Pellias,  he  leaped  from  off  of  his  horse,  &>  Gawaine 
crying  out,  "  Forgive  !  Forgive  ! "  with  great  vehemence  of  findeth  sir 
passion.  Then  he  would  have  taken  Sir  Pellias  into  his  arms,  Pelhas- 
but  Sir  Pellias  withdrew  himself  from  the  contact  of  Sir  Gawaine,  though 
not  with  any  violence  of  anger.  And  Sir  Pellias  spake  in  a  voice  very 
thin  and  of  a  silvery  clearness  as  though  it  came  from  a  considerable 
distance,  and  he  said,  "  Touch  me  not,  for  I  am  not  as  I  was  aforetime, 
being  not  all  human,  but  part  fay.  But  concerning  my  forgiveness:  I 
do  forgive  thee  whatsoever  injury  I  may  have  suffered  at  thy  hands.  And 
more  than  this  I  give  unto  thee  my  love,  and  I  greatly  hope  for  thy  joy 
and  happiness.  But  now  I  go  away  to  leave  thee,  dear  friend,  and  haply 
I  shall  not  behold  thee  again,  wherefore  I  do  leave  this  with  thee  as  my 
last  behest;  to  wit,  that  thou  dost  go  back  to  King  Arthur's  Court  and 
make  thy  peace  with  the  Queen.  So  thou  mayst  bring  them  news  of  all 
that  hath  happened  unto  me." 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  cried  out  in  great  sorrow,  "Whither  wouldst  thou 
go?" 

*  And  Sir  Pellias  said,  "  I  shall  go  to  yonder  wonderful  city  of  gold  and 
azure  which  lieth  in  yonder  valley  of  flowers." 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  I  see  no  city  but  only  a  lake  of  water." 


278  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  PELLIAS 

Whereupon  Sir  Pellias  replied,  "  Ne'theless,  there  is  a  city  yonder  and 
thither  I  go,  wherefore  I  do  now  bid  thee  farewell." 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  looked  into  the  face  of  Sir  Pellias  and  beheld  again 
that  strange  light  that  it  was  of  a  very  singular  appearance,  for,  lo !  it  was 
white  like  to  ivory  and  his  eyes  shone  like  jewels  set  in  ivory,  and  a  smile 
lay  upon  his  lips  and  grew  neither  more  nor  less,  but  always  remained  the 
same.  (For  those  who  were  of  that  sort  had  always  that  singular  appear- 
ance and  smiled  in  that  manner — to  wit,  the  Lady  of  the  Lake,  and  Sir 
Pellias,  and  Sir  Launcelot  of  the  Lake.) 

Then  Sir  Pellias  and  the  Lady  of  the  Lake  turned  and  left  Sir  Gawaine 
where  he  stood,  and  they  went  toward  the  lake,  and  they 
appearetk  into  entered  the  lake,  and  when  the  feet  of  the  horse  of  Sir  Pellias 
ike  lake.  had  touche(j  the  water  of  the  lake,  lo  !  Sir  Pellias  was  gone 

and  Sir  Gawaine  beheld  him  no  more,  although  he  stood  there  for  a  long 
time  weeping  with  great  passion. 

So  endeth  the  story  of  Sir  Pellias. 

But  Sir  Gawaine  returned  unto  the  Court  of  King  Arthur  as  he  had 
promised  Sir  Pellias  to  do,  and  he  made  his  peace  with  Queen  Guinevere 
and,  thereafter,  though  the  Queen  loved  him  not,  yet  there  was  a  peace 
betwixt  them.  And  Sir  Gawaine  published  these  things  to  the  Court  of 
King  Arthur  and  all  men  marvelled  at  what  he  told. 

And  only  twice  thereafter  was  Sir  Pellias  ever  seen  of  any  of  his  afore- 
time companions. 

And  Sir  Marhaus  was  made  a  Companion  of  the  Round  Table  and  be- 
er me  one  of  the  foremost  knights  thereof. 

And  the  Lady  Ettard  took  Sir  Engamore  into  favor  again,  and  that 
summer  they  were  wedded  and  Sir  Engamore  became  lord  of  Grant- 
mesnle. 

So  endeth  this  story. 


PART   III 
The  Story  of  Sir  Gawaine 

TJERE  followeth  the  story  of  Sir  Gawaine  and  of  how  he  discovered  such 
wonderful  faithfulness  unto  King  Arthur,  who  was  his  lord,  that  I  do 
not  believe  that  the  like  of  such  faithfulness  was  ever  seen  before. 

For  indeed,  though  Sir  Gawaine  was  at  times  very  rough  and  harsh  in  his 
manner,  and  though  he  was  always  so  plain-spoken  that  his  words  hid  the  gentle 
nature  that  lay  within  him,  yet,  under  this  pride  of  manner,  was  much  courtesy  ; 
and  at  times  he  was  so  urbane  of  manner  and  so  soft  of  speech  that  he  was  called 
by  many  the  Knight  of  the  Silver  Tongue. 

So  here  ye  shall  read  how  his  faithfulness  unto  King  Arthur  brought  him 
such  high  reward  that  almost  anyone  in  all  the  world  might  envy  him  his  great 
good  fortune. 


irGaroatnetipSonof 

Lot,KragofOi$ney:' 


Chapter  First. 


How  a  White  Hart  Appeared  Before  King  Arthur,  and  How  Sir 
Gawaine  and  Gaheris,  His  Brother,  Went  in  Pursuit  Thereof, 
and  of  What  Befell  Them  in  That  Quest. 

UPON  a  certain  time  King  Arthur,  together  with  Queen  Guinevere 
and  all  of  his  Court,  were  making  progression  through  that  part  of 
his  kingdom  which  was  not  very  near  to  Camelot.     At  this  time 
the  King  journeyed  in  very  great  state,  and  Queen  Guinevere  had  her 
Court  about  her,  so  there  were  many  esquires  and  pages ;  wherefore,  what 
with  knights,  lords,  and  ladies  in  attendance,  more  than  six  score  of  people 
were  with  the  King  and  Queen. 

Now  it  chanced  that  at  this  time  the  season  of  the  year  was  very  warm, 
so  that  when  the  middle  of  the  day  had  come  the  King  commanded  that 
a  number  of  pavilions  should  be  spread  for  their  accommodation,  wherein 
that  they  might  rest  there  until  the  heat  of  the  day  had  passed.  So  the 
attendants  spread  three  pavilions  in  a  pleasant  glade  upon  the  outskirts 
of  the  forest. 

When  this  had  been   done,  the  King  gave  command   that  the   tables, 


282  THE   STORY  OF  SIR    GAWAINE 

whereat  they  were  to  eat  their  mid-day  meal,  should  be  spread  beneath 
the  shadow  of  that  glade  of  trees  ;  for  there  was  a  gentle  wind  blowing 
and  there  were  many  birds  singing,  so  that  it  was  very  pleasant  to  sit 
in  the  open  air. 

Accordingly  the  attendants  of  the  Court  did  as  the  King  commanded, 
and  the  tables  were  set  upon  the  grass  beneath  the  shade,  and  the  King 
and  Queen  and  all  the  lords  and  ladies  of  their  Courts  sat  down  to  that 
cheerful  repast. 

Now  whiles  they  sat  there  feasting  with  great  content  of  spirit,  and  with 
much  mirth  and  goodly  talk  among  themselves,  there  came  of  a  sudden  a 
A -white  hart  great  outcry  from  the  woodland  that  was  near  by,  and  there- 
anda  white  with  there  burst  forth  from  the  cover  of  that  leafy  wilderness 
before  KingAr-  a  very  beautiful  white  hart  pursued  by  a  white  brachet  of 
thur  at  feast.  equal  beauty.  And  there  was  not  a  hair  upon  either  of  these 
animals  that  was  not  as  white  as  milk,  and  each  wore  about  its  neck  a 
collar  of  gold  very  beautiful  to  behold. 

The  hound  pursued  the  white  hart  with  a  very  great  outcry  and  bellow- 
ing, and  the  hart  fled  in  the  utmost  terror.  In  this  wise  they  ran  thrice  around 
the  table  where  King  Arthur  and  his  Court  sat  at  meat,  and  twice  in  that 
chase  the  hound  caught  the  hart  and  pinched  it  on  its  haunch,  and  there- 
with the  hart  leaped  away,  and  all  they  who  sat  there  observed  that  there 
was  blood  at  two  places  upon  its  haunch  where  the  hound  had  pinched  it. 
But  each  time  the  hart  escaped  from  the  hound,  and  the  hound  followed 
after  it  with  much  outcry  of  yelling  so  that  King  Arthur  and  Queen  Gui- 
nevere and  all  their  Court  were  annoyed  at  the  noise  and  tumult  that  those 
two  creatures  made.  Then  the  hart  fled  away  into  the  forest  again  by 
another  path,  and  the  hound  pursued  it  and  both  were  gone,  and  the  bay- 
ing of  the  hound  sounded  more  and  more  distant  as  it  ran  away  into  the 
woodland. 

Now,  ere  the  King  and  Queen  and  their  Court  had  recovered  from  their 
astonishment  at  these  things,  there  suddenly  appeared  at  that  part  of  the 
forest  whence  the  hart  and  the  hound  had  emerged,  a  knight  and  a  lady, 
and  the  knight  was  of  very  lordly  presence  and  the  lady  was  exceedingly 
beautiful.  The  knight  was  clad  in  half-armor,  and  the  lady  was  clad  in 
green  as  though  for  the  chase;  and  the  knight  rode  upon  a  charger  of 
dapple  gray,  and  the  lady  upon  a  piebald  palfrey.  With  them  were  two 
esquires,  also  clad  for  the  chase. 

These,  seeing  the  considerable  company  gathered  there,  paused  as 
though  in  surprise,  and  whilst  they  stood  so,  there  suddenly  appeared  an- 
other knight  upon  a  black  horse,  clad  in  complete  armor,  and  he  seemed 


SIX    GAWAINE   SETS  FORTH   UPON  THE  ADVENTURE       283 

to  be  very  angry.  For  he  ran  upon  the  half-armed  knight  and  smote  him 
so  sorry  a  blow  with  his  sword,  that  the  first  knight  fell  down  from  his 
horse  and  lay  upon  the  ground  as  though  dead ;  whereat  the  lady  who  was 
with  him  shrieked  with  great  dolor. 

Then  the  full-armed  knight  upon  the  black  horse  ran  to  the  lady  and 
catched  her,  and  he  lifted  her  from  her  palfrey  and  laid  her  across  the 
horn  of  his  saddle,  and  thereupon  he  rode  back  into  the  forest 
again.      The  lady  screamed  with  such  vehemence  of  violent  andghis  'court 
outcry,  that  it  was  a  great  pity  to  hear  her,  but  the  knight  beholda  knight 

J  .  i  carry  off  a 

paid  no  attention  to  her  shrieking,  but  bore  her  away  by  main  lady  prisoner. 
force  into  the  forest. 

Then,  after  he  and  the  lady  had  gone,  the  two  esquires  came  and  lifted 
up  the  wounded  knight  upon  his  horse,  and  then  they  also  went  away  into 
the  forest  and  were  gone. 

All  this  King  Arthur  and  his  Court  beheld  from  a  distance,  and  they 
were  so  far  away  that  they  could  not  stay  that  knight  upon  the  black  horse 
from  doing  what  he  did  to  carry  away  the  lady  into  the  forest;  nor  could 
they  bring  succor  to  that  other  knight  in  half-armor  whom  they  had  be- 
held struck  down  in  that  wise.  So  they  were  very  greatly  grieved  at 
what  they  had  beheld  and  knew  not  what  to  think  of  it.  Then  King 
Arthur  said  to  his  Court,  "  Messires,  is  there  not  some  one  of  you  who  will 
follow  up  this  adventure  and  discover  what  is  the  significance  of  that  which 
we  have  seen,  and  compel  that  knight  to  tell  why  he  behaved  as  he  did?" 

Upon  this  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  Lord,   I  shall  be  very  glad  indeed  to 
take  upon  me  this  adventure  if  I  have  thy  leave  to  do  so."     And  King 
Arthur  said,  "  Thou  hast  my  leave."     Then  Sir  Gawaine  said,    Sir 
"  Lord,  I  would  that  thou  would  also  let  me  take  my  younger 
brother,  Gaheris,  with  me  as  mine  esquire  in  this  undertak-   adventure  of 
ing,  for  he  groweth  apace  unto  manhood,  and  yet  he  hath    these  thinzs- 
never  beheld  any  considerable  adventure  at  arms."     So  King  Arthur  said, 
"  Thou  hast  my  leave  to  take  thy  brother  with  thee." 

At  this  Gaheris  was  very  glad,  for  he  was  of  an  adventurous  spirit, 
wherefore  the  thought  of  going  with  his  brother  upon  this  quest  gave  him 
great  pleasure. 

So  they  two  went  to  the  pavilion  of  Sir  Gawaine,  and  there  Gaheris 
aided  Sir  Gawaine  as  his  esquire  to  don  his  armor.  Then  they  rode  forth 
upon  that  quest  which  Sir  Gawaine  had  undertaken. 

Now  they  journeyed  onward  for  a  very  considerable  distance,  following 
that  direction  which  they  had  seen  the  hart  take  when  it  had  sped  away 
from  before  the  hound,  and  when/from  time  to  time,  they  would  meet 


284  THE   STORl    OF  SIR    GAWAINE 

some  of  the  forest  folk,  they  would  inquire  of  them  whither  had  fled 
that  white  brachet  and  the  white  hart,  and  whither  had  fled  the  knight  and 
the  lady,  and  so  they  followed  that  adventure  apace. 

By  and  by,  after  a  long  pass — it  being  far  advanced  in  the  afternoon — 
they  were  suddenly  aware  of  a  great  uproar  of  conflict,  as  of  a  fierce  battle 
in  progress.  So  they  followed  this  sound,  and  after  a  while  they  came  to 
an  open  meadow-land  with  very  fair  and  level  sward.  Here  they  be- 
held two  knights  fighting  with  great  vehemence  of  passion,  and  with  a 
very  deadly  purpose.  Then  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  What  is  this?  Let  us  go 
see."  So  he  and  Gaheris  rode  forward  to  where  those  two  knights  were 
The  behold  engaged>  and  as  they  approached,  the  two  knights  paused  in 
two  knights  their  encounter,  and  rested  upon  their  weapons.  Then  Sir 
fighting.  Gawaine  said,  "  Ha !  Messires,  what  is  to  do  and  why  do  ye 

fight  with  such  passion,  the  one  against  the  other,  in  that  wise?"  Then 
one  of  the  knights  said  to  Sir  Gawaine,  *'  Sir,  this  does  not  concern  you ; " 
and  the  other  said,  "  Meddle  not  with  us,  for  this  battle  is  of  our  own 
choosing.'* 

"  Messires,"  said  Sir  Gawaine,  "  I  would  be  very  sorry  to  interfere  in 
your  quarrel,  but  I  am  in  pursuit  of  a  white  hart  and  a  white  brachet  that 
came  this  way,  and  also  of  a  knight  who  hath  carried  off  a  lady  upon  the 
same  pass.  Now  I  would  be  greatly  beholden  to  ye  if  you  would  tell  me 
if  ye  have  seen  aught  of  one  or  the  other." 

Then  that  knight  who  had  first  spoken  said,  "  Sir,  this  is  a  very  strange 
matter,  for  it  was  upon  account  of  that  very  white  hart  and  that  brachet, 
One  of  the  an<^  °^  ^G  knight  and  the  lady  that  we  two  were  just  now  en- 
knights  tells  gaged  in  that  battle  as  thou  didst  behold.  For  the  case  is 
their  story.  this :  \\Te  two  are  two  brothers,  and  we  were  riding  together 
in  great  amity  when  that  hart  and  that  hound  came  hitherward.  Then 
my  brother  said  he  very  greatly  hoped  that  the  white  hart  would  escape 
from  the  hound,  and  I  said  that  I  hoped  that  the  hound  would  overtake 
the  hart  and  bring  it  to  earth.  Then  came  that  knight  with  that  lady,  his 
captive,  and  I  said  that  I  would  follow  that  knight  and  rescue  the  lady, 
and  my  brother  said  that  he  would  undertake  that  adventure. 

"  Upon  these  points  we  fell  into  dispute  ;  for  it  appeared  to  me  that  I 
felt  great  affection  for  that  hound,  and  my  brother  felt  as  extraordinary' 
regard  for  the  white  hart,  and  that  as  I  had  first  spoken  I  should  have  the 
right  to  follow  that  adventure ;  but  my  brother  felt  affection  for  the  hart, 
and  he  considered  that  as  he  was  the  elder  of  us  twain,  he  had  the  best 
right  to  the  adventure.  So  we  quarrelled,  and  by  and  by  we  fell  to  upon 
that  fight  in  which  thou  did  see  us  engaged." 


GAWAINE  ADDRESSES   THE  BROTHER  KNIGHTS       285 

At  this  Sir  Gawaine  was  very  greatly  astonished,  and  he  said,  "  Mes- 
sires,  I  cannot  understand  how  so  great  a  quarrel  should  have  arisen 
from  so  small  a  dispute  ;  and,  certes,  it  is  a  great  pity  for  two  brothers  to 
quarrel  as  ye  have  done,  and  to  give  one  another  such  sore  cuts  and  wounds 
as  I  perceive  you  have  both  received." 

"  Messires,"  said  the  second  knight,  "  I  think  thou  art  right,  and  I  now 
find  myself  to  be  very  much  ashamed  of  that  quarrel."  And  the  other  said, 
"  I  too  am  sorry  for  what  I  have  done." 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "Sirs,  I  would  be  very  glad  indeed  if  you 
would  tell  me  your  names."  And  the  one  knight  said,  "  I  am  called  Sir 
Sorloise  of  the  Forest."  And  the  other  said,  "  I  am  called  Sir  Brian  of  the 
Forest." 

Then  Sir  Sorloise  said,  "  Sir  Knight,  I  would  deem  it  a  very  great  cour- 
tesy if  thou  wouldst  tell  me  who  thou  art." 

"  I  would  be  very  glad  to  do  that,"  said  Sir  Gawaine,  and  therewith  he 
told  them  his  name  and  condition.  Now,  when  they  heard  who  Sir  Ga- 
waine was,  those  two  knights  were  very  greatly  astonished  and  pleased ; 
for  no  one  in  all  the  courts  of  chivalry  was  more  famous  than  Sir  Gawaine, 
the  son  of  King  Lot  of  Orkney.  Wherefore  those  two  brothers  said,  "  It 
is  certainly  a  great  joy  to  us  to  meet  so  famous  a  knight  as  thou  art,  Sir 
Gawaine." 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  Sir  Knights,  that  hart  and  that  hound  came 
only  a  short  while  ago  to  where  King  Arthur  and  Queen  Guinevere  and 
their  Courts  of  lords  and  ladies  were  at  feast,  and  there,  likewise,  all  we 
beheld  that  knight  seize  upon  the  lady  and  make  her  captive.  Wherefore, 
I  and  my  brother  have  come  forth  upon  command  of  King  Arthur  for  to 
discover  what  is  the  meaning  of  that  which  we  beheld.  Now  I  shall  deem 
it  a  very  great  courtesy  upon  your  part  if  you  will  cease  from  this  advent- 
ure and  will  go  in  amity  unto  the  Court  of  the  King,  and  will  tell  him  of 
what  ye  beheld  and  of  how  you  quarrelled  and  of  how  we  met.  For 
otherwise  I  myself  will  have  to  engage  ye  both,  and  that  would  be  a  great 
pity  ;  for  ye  are  weary  with  battle  and  I  am  fresh." 

Then  these  two  knights  said,  "  Sir,  we  will  do  as  you  desire,  for 
we  have  no  wish  to  have  to  do  with  so  powerful  a  knight  as  you." 

Thereupon  those  two  knights  departed  and  went  to  the  Court  of  King 
Arthur  as  Sir  Gawaine  ordained,  and  Sir  Gawaine  and  his  brother  rode 
forward  upon  their  adventure. 

Now,  by  and  by  they  came  nigh  to  a  great  river,  and  there  they  beheld 
before  them  a  single  knight  in  full. armor,  who  carried  a  spear  in  his 
hand  and  a  shield  hanging  to  his  saddle-bow.  Thereupon  Sir  Gawaine 


286  THE   STORY  OF  SIR   GAWAINE 

made  haste  forward  and  he  called  aloud  to  the  knight,  and  the  knight 
paused  and  waited  until  Sir  Gawaine  had  overtaken  him.  And 
when  Sir  Gawaine  came  up  to  that  knight  he  said,  "  Sir  Knight, 


meet  a  knight  hast  thou  seen  a  white  hart  and  a  white  hound  pass  by  this  way  ? 
And  hast  thou  seen  a  knight  bearing  off  a  captive  lady  ?  " 

Unto  this  the  knight  said,  "  Yea,  I  beheld  them  both,  and  I  am  even  now 
following  after  them  with  intent  to  discover  whither  they  are  bound." 
Then  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  Sir  Knight,  I  bid  thee  not  to  follow  this  adventure 
farther,  for  I  myself  am  set  upon  it.  Wherefore  I  desire  thee  for  to  give 
it  over  so  that  I  may  undertake  it  in  thy  stead.*'  "  Sir,"  said  the  other 
knight,  speaking  with  a  very  great  deal  of  heat,  "  I  know  not  who  thou 
art,  nor  do  I  care  a  very  great  deal.  But  touching  the  pursuance  of  this 
adventure,  I  do  tell  thee  that  I  myself  intend  to  follow  it  to  the  end  and 
so  will  I  do,  let  who  will  undertake  to  stay  me." 

Thereupon  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  Messire,  thou  shalt  not  go  forward  upon 
this  adventure  unless  thou  hast  first  to  do  with  me."  And  the  knight  said, 
"  Sir,  I  am  very  willing  for  that.'' 

So  each  knight  took  such  stand  upon  that  field  as  appeared  to  him  to  be 
best,  and  each  put  himself  into  a  posture  of  defence  and  dressed  his  shield 
and  his  spear.  Then,  when  they  were  thus  prepared  in  all  ways,  they  im- 
mediately launched  forth,  the  one  against  the  other,  rushing  together  with 
great  speed  and  with  such  an  uproar  that  the  ground  trembled  and  shook 
sir  Gawaine  beneath  them.  So  they  met  together  in  the  midst  of  the 
overtkroweth  course  and  the  spear  of  the  strange  knight  burst  all  into  small 
the  knight.  pieces,  but  the  spear  of  Sir  Gawaine  held  ;  wherefore  he 
hurled  that  knight  out  of  his  saddle  with  such  violence  that  he  smote  the 
ground  with  a  blow  like  an  earthquake. 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  rode  back  to  where  his  enemy  was  (for  that  knight 
was  unable  to  arise),  and  he  removed  the  helmet  from  the  head  of  the 
fallen  knight  and  beheld  that  he  was  very  young  and  comely. 

Now,  when  the  fresh  air  smote  upon  the  knight's  face,  he  presently 
awoke  from  his  swoon  and  came  back  unto  his  senses  again,  whereupon 
Sir  Gawaine  said,  "Dost  thou  yield  unto  me?"  And  the  knight  said,  "  I 
do  so."  Then  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  Who  art  thou?"  And  the  knight  said, 
"  I  am  called  Sir  Alardin  of  the  Isles."  "  Very  well,"  said  Sir  Gawaine  , 
"  then  I  lay  my  command  upon  thee  in  this  wise  :  that  thou  shalt  go  to 
the  Court  of  King  Arthur  and  deliver  thyself  to  him  as  a  captive  of  my 
prowess.  And  thou  art  to  tell  him  all  that  thou  knowest  of  the  hart  and 
the  hound  and  the  knight  and  the  lady.  And  thou  shalt  tell  him  all  that 
hath  befallen  thee  in  this  assault.  " 


SIR    GAWAINE   SLAYS   THE    WHITE  HART  287 

So  the  knight  said  that  he  would  do  that,  and  thereupon  they  parted, 
the  one  party  going  the  one  way  and  the  other  party  going  the  other  way! 

After  that  Sir  Gawaine  and  his  brother,  Gaheris,  rode  a  considerable 
distance  until  they  came,  by  and  by,  through  a  woodland  into  an  open 
plain,  and  it  was  now  about  the  time  of  sunset.  And  they  beheld  in  the 
midst  of  the  plain  a  very  stately  and  noble  castle  with  five  towers  and  of 
very  great  strength. 

And   right  here  they  saw  a   sight  that   filled   them   with 
great  sorrow,  for  they  beheld  the  dead  body  of  that  white  fnd^l™ be- 
brachet  lying  beside  the  road  like  any  carrion.     And  they   hold  the  dead 
saw    that    the    hound    was     pierced     through     with     three   ******** 
arrows,  wherefore  they  wist  that  it  had  been  slain  very  violently. 

Now  when  Sir  Gawaine  beheld  that  beautiful  hound  lying  dead  in  that 
wise,  he  was  filled  with  great  sorrow.  "  What  a  pity  it  is,"  he  cried,  "that 
this  noble  hound  should  be  slain  in  this  wise ;  for  I  think  that  it  was  the 
most  beautiful  hound  that  ever  I  saw  in  all  my  life.  Here  hath  assuredly 
been  great  treachery  against  it ;  for  it  hath  been  foully  dealt  with  because 
of  that  white  hart  which  it  pursued.  Now,  I  make  my  vow  that  if  I  can 
find  that  hart  I  will  slay  it  with  mine  own  hands,  because  it  was  in  that 
chase  that  this  hound  met  its  death." 

After  that  they  rode  forward  toward  that  castle,  and  as  they  drew  nigh, 
lo  !  they  beheld  that  white  hart  with  the  golden  collar  browsing  upon  the 
meadows  before  the  castle. 

Now,  as  soon  as  the  white  hart  beheld  those  two  strangers,  it  fled  with 
great  speed  toward  the  castle,  and  it  ran  into  the  court-yard  of  the  castle. 
And  when  Sir  Gawaine  beheld  the  stag,  he  gave  chase  in  pursuit  of  it  with 
great  speed,  and  Gaheris  followed  after  his  brother. 

So  Sir  Gawaine  pursued  the  white  hart  into  the  court-yard    &>  Gawaine 
of  the  castle   and  from   thence  it  could  not  escape.     Then    siayeth  the 
Sir  Gawaine   leaped    him    down   from   his   horse   and  drew    w  lte  art' 
his  sword  and  slew  the  hart  with  a  single  blow  of  his  weapon. 

This  he  did  in  great  haste,  but  when  he  had  done  that  and  it  was  too 
late  to  mend  it,  he  repented  him  of  what  he  had  done  very  sorely. 

Now  with  all  this  tumult,  there  came  out  the  lord  and  the  lady  of  that 
castle  ;  and  the  lord  was  one  of  very  haughty  and  noble  aspect,  and  the 
lady  was  extraordinarily  graceful  and  very  beautiful  of  appearance.  And 
Sir  Gawaine  looked  upon  the  lady  and  he  thought  he  had  hardly  ever  seen 
so  beautiful  a  dame,  wherefore  he  was  more  sorry  than  ever  that,  in  his 
haste,  he  had  slain  that  white  hart. 

But  when  the  lady  of  the  castle  beheld  the  white  hart,  that  it  lay  dead 


288  THE   STORY  OF  SIR   GAWAINE 

upon  the  stone  pavement  of  the  court-yard,  she  smote  her  hands  together 
and  shrieked  with  such  shrillness  and  strength,  that  it  pierced  the  ears  to 
hear  her.  And  she  cried  out,  "  Oh,  my  white  hart,  art  thou  then  dead  ?  " 
And  therewith  she  fell  to  weeping  with  great  passion.  Then  Sir  Gawaine 
said,  "  Lady,  I  am  very  sorry  for  what  I  have  done,  and  I  would  that  I 
could  undo  it."  Then  the  lord  of  that  castle  said  to  Sir  Gawaine,  "  Sir, 
didst  thou  slay  that  stag?"  "Yea,"  said  Sir  Gawaine.  "Sir,"  said  the 
lord  of  the  castle,  "thou  hast  done  very  ill  in  this  matter,  and  if  thou 
wilt  wait  a  little  I  will  take  full  vengeance  upon  thee."  Unto  which  Sir 
Gawaine  said,  "  I  will  wait  for  thee  as  long  as  it  shall  please  thee." 

Then  the  lord  of  the  castle  went  into  his  chamber  and  clad  himself  in 
his  armor,  and  in  a  little  while  he  came  out  very  fiercely.  "  Sir,"  said  Sir 
Gawaine,  "  what  is  thy  quarrel  with  me  ?  "  And  the  lord  of  the  castle 
said,  "  Because  thou  hast  slain  the  white  hart  that  was  so  dear  to  my  lady." 
To  the  which  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  I  would  not  have  slain  the  white  hart 
The  kni  ht of  onty  ^at  because  of  it  the  white  brachet  was  so  treacherously 
the  castle  assail-  slain."  Upon  this  the  lord  of  the  castle  was  more  wroth  than 
eth  Sir  Gawatnf'GveTf  anci  he  ran  at  Sir  Gawaine  and  smote  him  unawares,  so 
that  he  clave  through  the  epaulier  of  his  armor  and  cut  through  the  flesh 
and  unto  the  bone  of  the  shoulder,  so  that  Sir  Gawaine  was  put  to  a  great 
agony  of  pain  at  the  stroke.  Then  Sir  Gawaine  was  filled  with  rage  at  the 
pain  of  the  wound,  wherefore  he  smote  the  knight  so  woful  a  blow  that  he 
cut  through  his  helmet  and  into  the  bone  beneath,  and  thereupon  the 
knight  fell  down  upon  his  knees  because  of  the  fierceness  of  the  blow,  and 
he  could  not  rise  up  again.  Then  Sir  Gawaine  catched  his  helmet  and 
rushed  it  off  from  his  head. 

Upon  this  the  knight  said  in  a  weak  voice,  "  Sir  Knight,  I  crave  mercy 
of  you,  and  yield  myself  to  you." 

But  Sir  Gawaine  was  very  furious  with  anger  because  of 
makethtosiay     that  unexpected  blow  which  he  had  received  and  because  of 
t^ie  &reat  ag°nv  of  the  wound,  wherefore  he  would  not  have 
mercy,  but  lifted  up  his  sword  with  intent  to  slay  that  knight. 

Then  the  lady  of  the  castle  beheld  what  Sir  Gawaine  was  intent  to  do, 

and  she  brake  away  from  her  damsels  and  ran  and  flung  herself  upon  the. 

knight  so  as  to  shield   him   with   her  own  body.     And  in  that  moment 

Sir  Gawaine  was  striking  and  could  not  stay  his  blow;  nevertheless,  he 

was  able  to  turn  his  sword  in  his  hand  so  that  the  edge  thereof 

Sir  Gawaine          , .  ,  ••*«»»  n  /• 

striketh  the  lady  did  not  smite  the  lady.     But  the  flat  of  the  sword  struck  her 

°wthoutintent     upon  the  neck  a  ver^  grievous  blow,  and  the  blade  cut  her  a 
little,  so  that  the  blood  ran  down  her  smooth  white  neck  and 


SIK   GAWAINE   SMITES   THE  LADY  2g9 

over  her  kerchief ;  and  with  the  violence  of  the  blow  the  lady  fell  down  and 
lay  upon  the  ground  as  though  she  were  dead. 

Now  when  Sir  Gawaine  beheld  that,  he  thought  that  he  had  slain  that 
lady  in  his  haste,  and  he  was  all  a-dread  at  what  he  had  done,  wherefore 
he  cried,  "  Woe  is  me  !  what  have  I  done  ?  " 

"Alas!"  said  Gaheris,  "that  was  a  very  shameful  blow  that  thou  didst 
strike;  and  the  shame  of  it  is  mine  also  because  thou  art  my  brother. 
Now  I  wish  I  had  not  come  with  thee  to  this  place." 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  said  to  the  lord  of  that  castle,  "  Sir,  I  will  spare  thy 
life,  for  I  am  very  sorry  for  what  I  have  done  in  my  haste." 

But  the  knight  of  the  castle  was  filled  with  great  bitterness,  because  he 
thought  that  his  lady  was  dead,  wherefore  he  cried  out  as  in  despair,  "  I 
will  not  now  have  thy  mercy,  for  thou  art  a  knight  without  mercy  and 
without  pity.  And  since  thou  hast  slain  my  lady,  who  is  dearer  to  me 
than  my  life,  thou  mayst  slay  me  also.  For  that  is  the  only  service  which 
thou  canst  now  render  me." 

But  by  now  the  damsels  of  the  lady  had  come  to  her  where  she  lay, 
and  the  chiefest  of  these  cried  out  to  the  lord  of  the  castle,  "  Ha,  sir,  thy 
lady  is  not  dead,  but  only  in  a  swoon  from  which  she  will  presently  re- 
cover." 

Then  when  the  lord  of  the  castle  heard  that,  he  fell  to  weeping  in  great 
measure  from  pure  joy;  for  now  that  he  knew  his  lady  was  alive  he  could 
not  contain  himself  for  joy.  Therewith  Sir  Gawaine  came  to  him  and 
lifted  him  up  from  the  ground  where  he  was,  and  kissed  him  upon  the 
cheek.  Then  certain  others  came  and  bare  the  lady  away  into  her  cham- 
ber, and  there  in  a  little  while  she  recovered  from  that  swoon  and  was  but 
little  the  worse  for  the  blow  she  had  received. 

That  night  Sir  Gawaine,  and  his  brother,  Gaheris,  abided  with  the 
knight  and  the  lady,  and  when  the  knight  learned  who  Sir  Gawaine  was, 
he  felt  it  great  honor  to  have  so  famous  a  knight  in  that  place.  So  they 
feasted  together  that  evening  in  great  amity. 

Now,  after  they  had  refreshed  themselves,  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  I  beseech 
you,  sir,  to  tell  me  what  was  the  meaning  of  the  white  hart  and  the  white 
brachet  which  led  me  into  this  adventure." 

To  this  the  lord  of  the  castle  (whose  name  was  Sir  Ablamor  of  the 
Marise)  said,  "  I  will  do  so."  And  therewith  he  spake  as  follows: 

"  You  must  know,  sir,  that  I  have  a  brother  who  hath  always  been  very 
dear  to  me,  and  when  I  took  this,  my  lady,  unto  wife,  he  took  her  sister  as 
his  wife. 

"  Now,  my  brother  dwelt  in  a  castle  nigh  to  this,  and  we  held  commerce 


29o  THE   STORY  OF  SIR    GAWAINE 

together  in  great  amity.  But  it  befell  upon  a  day  that  my  lady  and  my 
The  lord  of  the  brother's  lady  were  riding  through  this  forest  together  dis- 
castie  telieth  the  coursing  very  pleasantly.  What  time  there  appeared  a  lady 
Swhite° hart  and  unto  them,  exceedingly  beautiful,  and  of  very  strange  appear- 
the  white  hound.  ance,  for  I  do  not  think  that  either  my  lady  or  her  sister  ever 
beheld  her  like  before. 

"  This  strange  lady  brought  unto  those  two  ladies  a  white  hart  and  a 
white  brachet,  and  the  hart  and  the  hound  she  held  each  by  a  silver  chain 
attached  to  a  golden  collar  that  encircled  its  neck.  And  the  white  hart 
she  gave  unto  my  lady  and  the  white  brachet  she  gave  unto  my  lady's 
sister.  And  then  she  went  away  leaving  them  very  glad. 

"  But  their  gladness  did  not  last  for  very  long,  for  ever  since  that  time 
there  hath  been  nothing  else  but  discord  between  my  brother  and  myself, 
and  between  my  lady  and  her  sister,  for  the  white  hound  hath  ever  sought 
the  white  hart  for  to  destroy  it,  wherefore  I  and  my  lady  have  entertained 
very  great  offence  against  my  brother  and  his  lady  because  they  did  not 
keep  the  white  brachet  at  home.  So  it  has  come  to  pass  that  a  number  of 
times  we  have  sought  to  destroy  the  hound,  so  that  my  brother  and  his 
lady  have  held  equal  offence  against  us. 

"  Now  this  day  it  chanced  I  was  toward  the  outskirts  of  the  forest  to  the 
east  of  us,  when  I  heard  a  great  outcry  in  the  woodland,  and  by  and  by 
the  white  hart  that  belonged  to  my  lady  came  fleeing  through  the  wood- 
land, and  the  white  brachet  that  belonged  to  my  brother's  lady  was  in 
pursuit  of  it ;  and  my  brother  and  his  lady  and  two  esquires  followed 
rapidly  after  the  hart  and  the  brachet. 

"  Then  I  was  very  greatly  angered,  for  it  seemed  to  me  that  they  were 
chasing  that  white  hart  out  of  despite  of  my  lady  and  myself,  wherefore  I 
followed  after  them  with  all  speed. 

"  So  I  came  upon  them  at  the  outskirts  of  the  woodland,  nigh  to 
where  there  were  a  number  of  pavilions  pitched  in  the  shade  of  a  glade  of 
trees  in  the  midst  of  the  meadow,  and  there,  in  mine  anger,  I  struck  my 
brother  a  great  blow  so  that  I  smote  him  down  from  his  horse.  And  I 
catched  his  lady  and  I  threw  her  across  the  horn  of  my  saddle  and  I  bore 
her  here  away  to  this  castle,  and  here  I  have  held  her  out  of  revenge. 
because  they  pursued  the  white  hart  which  belonged  to  my  lady.  For 
my  lady  loved  that  hart  as  she  loved  nothing  else  in  the  world,  excepting 
myself." 

"  Sir,"  said  Sir  Gawaine,  "  this  is  a  very  strange  matter.  Now  I  beseech 
thee  to  tell  me  of  what  appearance  was  that  lady  who  gave  the  white  hart 
and  the  white  hound  unto  those  two  ladies  ?  "  "  Messire,"  said  the  knight, 


QUEEN  GUINEVERE  IS  AFFRONTED    WITH  SIR   GAWAINE  291 

"she  was  clad  all  in  crimson,  and  about  her  throat  and  arms  were  a 
great  many  ornaments  of  gold  beset  with  stones  of  divers  colors/and  her 
hair  was  red  like  gold  and  was  enmeshed  in  a  net  of  gold,  and  her  eyes 
were  very  black  and  shone  with  exceeding  brightness,  and  her  lips  were 
like  coral,  so  that  she  possessed  a  very  strange  appearance." 

"  Ha ! "  said  Sir    Gawaine,  "  from  this  description  methinks  that  lady 
could  have  been  none  other   than   the   sorceress  Vivien.     For  now  she 
spendeth  all  of  her  time  in  doing  such  mischief  as  this  by 
means  of  her  enchantment,  out  of  pure  despite.     And,  indeed,  I    heareth  of  * 
think  it  would  be  a  very  good  thing  if  she  were  put  out  of  this    Vlvien* 
world  so  that  she  could  do  no  more  such  mischief.     But  tell  me,  Messire, 
where  now  is  that  lady,  thy  wife's  sister?  "     "  Sir,"  said  the  knight,  "  she 
is  in  this  castle  and  is  a  prisoner  of  honor."     "Well,"  quoth  Sir  Gawaine, 
"  since  now  both  the  hart  and  the  hound  are  dead,  ye  can  assuredly  bear 
no  more  enmity  toward  her  and  your  brother,  wherefore  I  do  beseech  you 
that  you  will  let  her  go  free,  and  will  enter  again  into  a  condition  of  amity 
and  good-will  the  one  with  the  other,  in  such  a  manner  as  hath  afore  ob- 
tained between  you."     And  the  lord  of  the  castle  said,  "  Sir,  it  shall  be  so." 

And  so  he  set  the  lady  free  at  that  time,  and  thereafter  there  was  amity 
between  them  as  Sir  Gawaine  had  ordained. 

And  the  next  day  Sir  Gawaine  and  his  brother,  Gaheris,  returned  unto 
this  Court  of  the  King  and  he  told  King  Arthur  and  his  Court  all  that  had 
befallen,  hiding  nothing  from  them. 

Now,  Queen  Guinevere  was  very  much  displeased  when  she  heard  how 
Sir  Gawaine  would  show  no  mercy  to  that  knight  and  how  he  had  struck  the 
lady  with  his  sword.  Wherefore  she  said  aside  to  one  of  those 

*  .  Queen  Guine- 

who  stood  nigh  to  her,  "  It  seems  to  me  to  be  a  very  strange   vere  is  <#>. 
thing  for  a  belted  knight  to  do,  to  refuse  to  give  mercy  unto  a  ^^^ 
fallen  enemy  and  to  strike  a  lady  with  his  sword  ;  for  I  should 
think  that  any  sword  that  had  drawn  blood  from  a  lady  in  such  wise  would 
be  dishonored  for  aye ;  and  I  cannot  think  that  anyone  who  would  strike  a 
lady  in  that  wise  would  hold  himself  guiltless  unto  his  vow  of  knighthood." 
This  Sir  Gawaine  overheard  and  he  was  exceedingly   wroth  thereat. 
Bat  he  concealed  his  anger  at  that  time.     Only  after  he  had  gone  away  he 
said  to  Gaheris,  his  brother,  "  I  believe  that  lady  hateth  me  with  all  her 
heart ;  but  some  time  I  will  show  to  her  that  I  have  ,in  me    sir  Gawaine 
more  courtesy  and  am  more  gentle  than  she  believes  me  to  be.    b^edthhis 
As  for  my  sword,  since  she  deemeth  it  to  be  dishonored  by 
that  blow,  I  will  not  use  it  any  more,"     So  he  took  the  sword  out  of 
sheath  and  brake  it  across  his  knee  and  flung  it  away. 


292 


THE  STORY  OF  SIR   GAWAINE 


Now  all  this  hath  been  told  to  set  forth  that  which  follows ;  for  there  ye 
shall  learn  what  great  things  of  nobility  Sir  Gawaine  could  do  when  it 
behooved  him  to  do  them.  For,  haply,  ye  who  have  read  this  story  may 
feel  as  Queen  Guinevere  did,  that  Sir  Gawaine  was  not  rightwise  cour- 
teous as  a  belted  knight  should  have  been  in  that  adventure  aforetold. 


ing  Arftjor  finbeflj  f  olbs 
rooraamuyljut:- 


Chapter  Second. 

How  King  Arthur  Became  Lost  in  the  Forest,  and  How  He  Fell 
Into  a  Very  Singular  Adventure  in  a  Castle  Unto  Which  He 
Came. 

NOW,  it  befell  upon  a  time  some  while  after  this,  that  King  Arthur 
was  at  Tintagalon  upon  certain  affairs  of  state.      And  Queen 
Guinevere  and  her  Court  and  the  King's  Court  made  progres- 
sion from  Camelot  unto  Carleon,  and  there  they  abided  until  the  King 
should  be  through   his   business  at  Tintagalon  and  should  join  them  at 
Carleon. 

Now  that  time  was  the  spring  of  the  year,  and  all  things  were  very  jolly 
and  gay,  wherefore  King  Arthur  became  possessed  with  a  great  desire 
for  adventure.  So  he  called  unto  him  a  certain  favorite  esquire,  hight 
Boisenard,  and  he  said  to  him,  "  Boisenard,  this  day  is  so  pleasant  that  I 
hardly  know  how  I  may  contain  myself  because  of  the  joy  I  take  in  it,  for 
it  seems  to  be  that  my  heart  is  nigh  ready  to  burst  with  a  great  pleasure  of 
desiring.  So  I  am  of  a  mind  to  go  a-gadding  with  only  thee  for  companion." 

To  this  Boisenard  said,  "  Lord,  I  know  of  nothing  that  would  give  to  me 
a  greater  pleasure  than  that." 

So  King  Arthur  said,  "  Very  well,  let  us  then  go  away  from  this  place 
in  such  a  manner  that  no  one  will  be  aware  of  our  departure.  And  so  we 
will  go  to  Carleon  and  surprise  the  Queen  by  coming  unexpectedly  to  that 
place." 

So  Boisenard  brought  armor,  without  device,  and  he  clad  the  King  in 
that  armor ;  and  then  they  two  rode  forth  together,  and  no  one  wist  that 
they  had  left  the  castle. 

And  when  they  came  forth  into  the  fields,  King  Arthur  whistled  and 
sang  and  jested  and  laughed  and  made  himself  merry ;   for  he  King  Arthur 
was  as  a  war-horse  turned  forth  upon  the  grass  that  taketh  sgt  forthwith 
glory  in  the  sunshine  and  the  warm  air  and  becometh  like 
unto  a  colt  again. 


296  THE   STORY  OF  SIR  GAWAINE 

So  by  and  by  they  came  into  the  forest  and  rode  that  way  with  great 
content  of  spirit ;  and  they  took  this  path  and  they  took  that  path  for  no 
reason  but  because  the  day  was  so  gay  and  jolly.  So,  by  and  by,  they 
lost  their  way  in  the  mazes  of  the  woodland  and  knew  not  where  they 
were. 

Now  when  they  found  themselves  to  be  lost  in  that  wise  they  journeyed 
with  more  circumspection,  going  first  by  this  way  and  then  by  that,  but  in 
They  are  lost  in  no  manner  could  they  find  their  way  out  from  their  entangle- 
the  forest,  ment.  And  so  fell  night-time  and  they  knew  not  where  they 
were ;  but  all  became  very  dark  and  obscure,  with  the  woodland  full  of 
strange  and  unusual  sounds  around  about  them. 

Then  King  Arthur  said,  "  Boisenard,  this  is  a  very  perplexing  pass  and 
I  do  not  know  how  we  shall  find  lodging  for  this  night." 

To  this  Boisenard  said,  "  Lord,  if  I  have  thy  permission  to  do  so,  I 
will  climb  one  of  these  trees  and  see  if  I  can  discover  any  sign  of  habita- 
tion in  this  wilderness."  And  King  Arthur  said,  "  Do  so,  I  pray  thee." 

So  Boisenard  climbed  a  very  tall  tree  and  from  the  top  of  the  tree  he 
Boisenard  be-  beheld  a  light  a  great  distance  away,  and  he  said,  "  Lord,  I 
hoidethaiight.  see  a  light  in  that  direction."  And  therewith  he  came  down 
from  the  tree  again. 

So  King  Arthur  and  Boisenard  went  in  the  direction  that  Boisenard 
lad  beheld  the  light,  and  by  and  by  they  came  out  of  the  forest  and 
into  an  open  place  where  they  beheld  a  very  great  castle  with  several 
tall  towers,  very  grim  and  forbidding  of  appearance.  And  it  was  from 
this  castle  that  the  light  had  appeared  that  Boisenard  had  seen.  So  they 
two  rode  up  to  the  castle  and  Boisenard  called  aloud  and  smote  upon 
the  gate  of  the  castle.  Then  immediately  there  came  a  porter  and  de- 
manded of  them  what  they  would  have.  Unto  him  Boisenard  said, 
"  Sirrah,  we  would  come  in  to  lodge  for  to-night,  for  we  are  a-weary."  So 
the  porter  said,  "Who  are  you?" — speaking  very  roughly  and  rudely 
to  them,  for  he  could  not  see  of  what  condition  they  were  because  of 
the  darkness.  Then  Boisenard  said,  "  This  is  a  knight  of  very  good 
quality  and  I  am  his  esquire,  and  we  have  lost  our  way  in  the  forest  and 
now  we  come  hither  seeking  shelter." 

"  Sir,"  said  the  porter,  "  if  ye  know  what  is  good  for  you,  ye  will  sleep 
in  the  forest  rather  than  come  into  this  place,  for  this  is  no  very  good  retreat 
for  errant  knights  to  shelter  themselves." 

Upon  this  King  Arthur  bespake  the  porter,  for  that  which  the  porter 
said  aroused  great  curiosity  within  him.  So  he  said,  "  Nay,  we  will  not 
go  away  from  here  and  we  demand  to  lodge  here  for  this  night." 


KING  ARTHUR  ENTERS   THE  STRANGE   CASTLE  297 

Then  the  porter  said,  «  Very  well;  ye  may  come  in."  And  thereupon 
he  opened  the  gate  and  they  rode  into  the  court-yard  of  that  castle./ 

Now  at  the  noise  of  their  coming,  there  appeared  a  great  many  lights 
within  the  castle,  and  there  came  running  forth  divers  attendants.  Some 
of  these  aided  King  Arthur  and  Boisenard  to  dismount, 
and  others  took  the  horses,  and  others  again  brought  basins  fndlfs^irt 
of  water  for  them  to  wash  withal.  And  after  they  had  enter ' tke castle- 
washed  their  'aces  and  hands,  other  attendants  brought  them  into  the 
castle. 

Now  as  they  came  into  the  castle,  they  were  aware  of  a  great  noise 
of  very  many  people  talking  and  laughing  together,  with  the  sound  of 
singing  and  of  harping.  And  so  they  came  into  the  hall  of  the  castle 
and  beheld  that  it  was  lighted  with  a  great  number  of  candles  and  tapers 
and  torches.  Here  they  found  a  multitude  of  people  gathered  at  a  table 
spread  for  a  feast,  and  at  the  head  of  the  table  there  sat  a  knight,  well 
advanced  in  years  and  with  hair  and  beard  white  as  milk.  Yet  he  was 
exceedingly  strong  and  sturdy  of  frame,  having  shoulders  of  wonderful 
broadness  and  a  great  girth  of  chest.  This  knight  was  of  a  very  stern  and 
forbidding  appearance,  and  was  clad  altogether  in  black,  and  he  wore 
around^his  neck  a  chain  of  gold,  with  a  locket  of  gold  hanging  pendant 
from  it.  ; 

Now  when  this  knight  beheld  King  Arthur  and  Boisenard  come  into 
the  hall,  he  called  aloud  to  them  in  a  very  great  voice  bidding  them  to 
come  and  sit  with  him  at  the  head  of  the  table ;  and  they  did  so,  and  those 
at  the  head  of  the  table  made  place  for  them,  and  thus  they  sat  there  beside 
the  knight. 

I.NOW  King  Arthur  and  Boisenard  were  exceedingly  hungry,  wherefore 
they  ate  with  great  appetite  and  made  joy  of  the  entertainment  which 
they  received,  and  meantime  the  knight  held  them  in  very  pleasant  dis- 
course, talking  to  them  of  such  things  as  would  give  them  the  most  enter- 
tainment. So  after  a  while  the  feast  was  ended  and  they  ceased  from  eat- 
ing. 

Then,  of  a  sudden,  the  knight  said  to  King  Arthur,  "  Messire,  thou  art 
young  and  lusty  of  spirit  and  I  doubt  not  but  thou  hath  a  great  heart 
within   thee.     What   say   you   now  to  a  little  sport  betwixt     The  knight  of 
us  two?"      Upon  this    King   Arthur   regarded   that  knight     ^f^1' 
very  steadily  and  he  believed  that  his  face  was  not  so  old     Arthur  to  an 
as   it   looked;    for   his   eyes    were   exceedingly   bright   and     «*» 
shone  like  sparks  of  light ;  wherefore  he  was  a-doubt  and  he  said,  "  Sir, 
what  sport  would  you  have?"     Upon  this  the  knight  fell  a-laughing  in 


298  THE   STORY  OF  SIR    GAWAINE 

great  measure  and  he  said,  "  This  is  a  very  strange  sport  that  I  have  in 
mind,  for  it  is  this :  That  thou  and  I  shall  prove  the  one  unto  the  other 
what  courage  each  of  us  may  have."  And  King  Arthur  said,  "  How  shall 
we  prove  that  ?  "  Whereunto  the  knight  made  reply,  "  This  is  what  we 
shall  do  :  Thou  and  I  shall  stand  forth  in  the  middle  of  this  hall,  and 
thou  shalt  have  leave  to  try  to  strike  off  my  head ;  and  if  I  can  receive 
that  blow  without  dying  therefrom,  then  I  shall  have  leave  to  strike  thy 
head  off  in  a  like  manner." 

Upon  this  speech  King  Arthur  was  greatly  a-dread  and  he  said,  "  That 
is  very  strange  sport  for  two  men  to  engage  upon." 

Now  when  King  Arthur  said  this,  all  those  who  were  in  the  hall  burst 
out  laughing  beyond  all  measure  and  as  though  they  would  never  stint 
from  their  mirth.  Then,  when  they  had  become  in  a  measure  quiet  again, 
the  knight  of  that  castle  said,  "  Sir,  art  thou  afraid  of  that  sport  ? " 
Upon  which  King  Arthur  fell  very  angry  and  he  said,  "  Nay,  I  am  not 
afeared,  for  no  man  hath  ever  yet  had  reason  to  say  that  I  showed  my- 
self afeared  of  anyone."  "  Very  well,"  said  the  knight  of  the  castle  ; 
"  then  let  us  try  that  sport  of  which  I  spake."  And  King  Arthur  said,  "  I 
am  willing." 

Then  Boisenard  came  to  King  Arthur  where  he  was,  and  he  said,  "  Lord, 
do  not  thou  enter  into  this  thing,  but  rather  let  me  undertake  this  venture 
in  thy  stead,  for  I  am  assured  that  some  great  treachery  is  meditated 
against  thee."  But  King  Arthur  said,  "  Nay ;  no  man  shall  take  my 
danger  upon  himself,  but  I  will  assume  mine  own  danger  without  calling 
upon  any  man  to  take  it."  So  he  said  to  the  knight  of  the  castle,  "  Sir,  I 
am  ready  for  that  sport  of  which  thou  didst  speak,  but  who  is  to  strike 
that  first  blow  and  how  shall  we  draw  lots  therefor?"  "  Messire,"  said 
the  knight  of  the  castle,  "  there  shall  be  no  lots  drawn.  For,  as  thou  art 
the  guest  of  this  place,  so  shall  thou  have  first  assay  at  that  sport." 

Therewith  that  knight  arose  and  laid  aside  his  black  robe,  and  he  was 
clad  beneath  in  a  shirt  of  fine  linen  very  cunningly  worked.  And  he  wore 
hosen  of  crimson.  Then  he  opened  that  linen  undergarment  at  the  throat 
and  he  turned  down  the  collar  thereof  so  as  to  lay  his  neck  bare  to  the 
blow.  Thereupon  he  said,  "  Now,  Sir  Knight,  thou  shalt  have  to  strike, 
well  if  thou  wouldst  win  at  this  sport." 

But  King  Arthur  showed  no  dread  of  that  undertaking,  for  he  arose 
and  drew  Excalibur  so  that  the  blade  of  the  sword  flashed 

King  Arthur  .  ,  , .  .  »«»«*' 

cuts  off  the  head  with  exceeding  brightness.  Then  he  measured  his  distance, 
and  lifted  the  sword,  and  he  smote  the  knight  of  the  castle 
with  all  his  might  upon  the  neck.  And,  lo!  the  blade  cut 


KING   ARTHUR   ENGAGES    THE   KNIGHT  OF  THE    CASTLE   299 

through  the  neck  of  the  knight  of  the  castle  with  wonderful  ease,  so  that 
the  head  flew  from  the  body  to  a  great  distance  away. 

But  the  trunk  of  the  body  of  that  knight  did  not  fall,  but  instead  of 
that  it  stood,  and  it  walked  to  where  the  head  lay,  and  the  hands  of  the 
trunk  picked  up  the  head  and  they  set  the  head  back  upon  the  body, 
and,  lo !  that  knight  was  as  sound  and  whole  as  ever  he  had  been  in  all 
his  life. 

Upon  this  all  those  of  the  castle  shouted  and  made  great  mirth,  and  they 
called  upon  King  Arthur  that  it  was  now  his  turn  to  try  that  sport.  So 
the  King  prepared  himself,  laying  aside  his  surcoat  and  opening  his  under- 
garment at  the  throat,  as  the  knight  of  the  castle  had  done.  And  at  that 
Boisenard  made  great  lamentation.  Then  the  knight  of  the  castle  said, 
"  Sir,  art  thou  afeared  ?  "  And  King  Arthur  said,  "  No,  I  am  not  afeared, 
for  every  man  must  come  to  his  death  some  time,  and  it  appears  that  my 
time  hath  now  come,  and  that  I  am  to  lay  down  my  life  in  this  foolish 
fashion  for  no  fault  of  mine  own." 

Then  the  knight  of  the  castle  said,  "  Well,  stand  thou  away  a  little  dis- 
tance so  that  I  may  not  strike  thee  too  close,  and  so  lose  the  virtue  of  my 
blow." 

So  King  Arthur  stood  forth  in  the  midst  of  the  hall,  and  the  knight  of 
the  castle  swung  his  sword  several  times,  but  did  not  strike.  Likewise,  he 
several  times  laid  the  blade  of  the  sword  upon  King  Arthur's  Thg  kn{  ht  tor_ 
neck,  and  it  was  very  cold.  Then  King  Arthur  cried  out  ments  King 
in  great  passion,  "  Sir,  it  is  thy  right  to  strike,  but  I  be-  Arthur- 
seech  thee  not  to  torment  me  in  this  manner."  "  Nay,"  said  the  knight  of 
the  castle,  "it  is  my  right  to  strike  when  it  pleases  me,  and  I  will  not 
strike  any  before  that  time.  For  if  it  please  me  I  will  torment  thee  for  a 
great  while  ere  I  slay  thee."  So  he  laid  his  sword  several  times  more 
upon  King  Arthur's  neck,  and  King  Arthur  said  no  more,  but  bore  that 
torment  with  a  very  steadfast  spirit. 

Then  the  knight  of  the  castle  said,  "  Thou  appearest  to  be  a  very  cour- 
ageous and  honorable  knight,  and  I  have  a  mind  to  make  a  covenant  with 
thee."  And  King  Arthur  said,  "  What  is  that  covenant  ?  "  "  It  is  this," 
said  the  knight  of  the  castle,  "  I  will  spare  thee  thy  life  for  a  year  and  a 
day  if  thou  wilt  pledge  me  thy  knightly  word  to  return  hither  at  the  end 
of  that  time." 

Then  King  Arthur  said,  «'  Very  well ;  it  shall  be  so."    And  therewith  he 
pledged  his  knightly  word  to  return  at  the  end  of  that  time,  swearing  t 
that  pledge  upon  the  cross  of  the  hilt  of  Excalibur. 

Then  the  knight  of  the  castle  said,  "  I  will  make  another  covenant  with 


3oo  THE   STORY  OF  SIR    GAWAINE 

thee."  "  What  is  it  ?  "  said  King  Arthur.  "  My  second  covenant  is  this," 
quoth  the  knight  of  the  castle,  "  I  will  give  to  thee  a  riddle,  and  if  thou 
wilt  answer  that  riddle  when  thou  returnest  hither,  and  if 
thou  makest  no  mistake  in  that  answer,  then  will  I  spare  thy 
King  Arthur  nfe  anci  set  thee  free."  And  King  Arthur  said,  "  What  is 
that  riddle?"  To  which  the  knight  made  reply,  "  The  rid- 
dle is  this  :  What  is  it  that  a  woman  desires  most  of  all  in  the  world  ?  " 

"  Sir,"  said  King  Arthur,  "  I  will  seek  to  find  the  answer  to  that  riddle, 
and  I  give  thee  gramercy  for  sparing  my  life  for  so  long  a  time  as  thou 
hast  done,  and  for  giving  me  the  chance  to  escape  my  death."  Upon  this 
the  knight  of  the  castle  smiled  very  sourly,  and  he  said,  "  I  do  not  offer 
this  to  thee  because  of  mercy  to  thee,  but  because  I  find  pleasure  in  tor- 
menting thee.  For  what  delight  canst  thou  have  in  living  thy  life  when 
thou  knowest  that  thou  must,  for  a  surety,  die  at  the  end  of  one  short 
year  ?  And  what  pleasure  canst  thou  have  in  living  even  that  year  when 
thou  shalt  be  tormented  with  anxiety  to  discover  the  answer  to  my 
riddle?" 

Then  King  Arthur  said,  "  I  think  thou  art  very  cruel."  And  the  knight 
said,  "  I  am  not  denying  that." 

So  that  night  King  Arthur  and  Boisenard  lay  at  the  castle,  and  the 
next  day  they  took  their  way  thence.  And  King  Arthur  was  very  heavy 
and  troubled  in  spirit;  ne'theless  he  charged  Boisenard  that  he  should 
say  nothing  concerning  that  which  had  befallen,  but  that  he  should  keep  it 
in  secret.  And  Boisenard  did  as  the  King  commanded,  and  said  nothing 
concerning  that  adventure. 

Now  in  that  year  which  followed,  King  Arthur  settled  his  affairs.  Also 
he  sought  everywhere  to  find  the  answer  to  that  riddle.  Many  there  were 
who  gave  him  answers  in  plenty,  for  one  said  that  a  woman  most  desired 
wealth,  and  another  said  she  most  desired  beauty,  and  one  said  she  desired 
power  to  please,  and  another  said  that  she  most  desired  fine  raiment ;  and 
one  said  this,  and  another  said  that ;  but  no  answer  appeared  to  King 
Arthur  to  be  good  and  fitting  for  his  purpose. 

So  the  year  passed  by,  until  only  a  fortnight  remained ;  and  then  King 
Arthur  could  not  abide  to  stay  where  he  was  any  longer,  for  it  seemed  to 
him  his  time  was  very  near  to  hand,  and  he  was  filled  with  a  very  bitter 
anxiety  of  soul,  wherefore  he  was  very  restless  to  be  away. 

So  he  called  Boisenard  to  him,  and  he  said,  "  Boisenard,  help  me  to  arm, 
for  I  am  going  away." 

Then  Boisenard  fell  a-weeping  in  very  great  measure,  and  he  said, 
"  Lord,  do  not  go." 


KING  ARTHUR  RETURNS   TO    THE  KNIGHT-ENCHANTER  301 

At  this  King  Arthur  looked  very  sternly  at  his  esquire,  and  said, "  Bois- 
enard,  how  is  this  ?  Wouldst  thou  tempt  me  to  violate  mine  honor?  It  is 
not  very  hard  to  die,  but  it  would  be  very  bitter  to  live  my  life  in  dishonor ; 
wherefore  tempt  me  no  more,  but  do  my  bidding  and  hold  thy  peace! 
And  if  I  do  not  return  in  a  month  from  this  time,  then  mayst  thou  tell  all 
that  hath  befallen.  And  thou  mayst  tell  Sir  Constantine  of  Cornwall  that 
he  is  to  search  the  papers  in  my  cabinet,  and  that  there  he  will  find  all  that 
is  to  be  done  should  death  overtake  me." 

So  Boisenard  put  a  plain  suit  of  armor  upon  King  Arthur,  though  he 
could  hardly  see  what  he  was  about  for  the  tears  that  flowed  down  out 
of  his  eyes  in  great  abundance.     And  he  laced  upon  the  armor  Kin   Arthur 
of  the  King  a  surcoat  without  device,  and  he  gave  the  King  set  forth  to  re- 
a  shield  without  device.     Thereupon  King  Arthur  rode  away  J^Jrf/*1* 
without  considering  whither  his  way  took  him.   And  of  every-  knight. 
one  whom  he  met  he  inquired  what  that  thing  was  that  a  woman  most 
desired,  and  no  one  could  give  him  an  answer  that  appeared  to  him  to  be 
w,hat  it  should  be,  wherefore  he  was  in  great  doubt  and  torment  of  spirit. 

/Now  the  day  before  King  Arthur  was  to  keep  his  covenant  at  that  castle, 
he  was  wandering  through  the  adjacent  forest  in  great  travail  of  soul,  for 
he  wist  not  what  he  should  do  to  save  his  life.  As  he  wandered  so,  he 
came  of  a  sudden  upon  a  small  hut  built  up  under  an  overhanging  oak-tree 
so  that  it  was  very  hard  to  tell  where  the  oak-tree  ended  and  the  hut 
began.  And  there  were  a  great  many  large  rocks  all  about  covered  with 
moss,  so  that  the  King  might  very  easily  have  passed  by  the  hut  only  that 
he  beheld  a  smoke  to  arise  therefrom  as  from  a  fire  that  burned  within. 
So  he  went  to  the  hut  and  opened  the  door  and  entered.  At  first  he 
thought  there  was  no  one  there,  but  when  he  looked  again  he  beheld  an 
old  woman  sitting  bent  over  a  small  fire  that  burned  upon  the  Arthur 

hearth.     And  King  Arthur  had   never  beheld  such  an  ugly    cometh  to  the 
beldame  as  that  one  who  sat  there  bending  over  that  fire,  for   ^/^  old 
her  ears  were  very  huge  and  flapped,  and  her  hair  hung  down 
over   her  head   like  to   snakes,  and   her  face  was  covered  all  over  with 
wrinkles  so  that  there  were  not  any  places  at  all  where  there  was  not  a 
wrinkle ;  and  her  eyes  were  bleared  and  covered  over  with  a  film,  and 
the  eyelids  were  red  as  with  the  continual  weeping  of  her  eyes,  and  she 
had  but  one  tooth  in  her  mouth,  and  her  hands,  which  she  spread  out  to 
the  fire,  were  like  claws  of  bone. 

Then  King  Arthur  gave  her  greeting  and  she  gave  the  King  greeting, 
and  she  said  to  him,  "  My  lord  King,  whence  come  ye  ?  and  why  do  ye 
come  to  this  place  ?  " 


3o2  THE   STORY  OF  SIR    GAWAINE 

Then  King  Arthur  was  greatly  astonished  that  that  old  woman  should 
know  him,  who  he  was,  and  he  said,  *'  Who  are  you  that  appeareth  to 
know  me  ?  "  "  No  matter,"  said  she,  "  I  am  one  who  meaneth  you  well ; 
so  tell  me  what  is  the  trouble  that  brings  you  here  at  this  time."  So  the 
King  confessed  all  his  trouble  to  that  old  woman,  and  he  asked  her  if  she 
knew  the  answer  to  that  riddle,  "  What  is  it  that  a  woman  most  desires  ?  " 
44  Yea,"  said  the  old  woman,  "  I  know  the  answer  to  that  riddle  very  well, 
but  I  will  not  tell  it  to  thee  unless  thou  wilt  promise  me  something  in 
return." 

At  this  King  Arthur  was  filled  with  very  great  joy  that  the  old  woman 
should  know  the  answer  to  that  riddle,  and  he  was  filled  with  doubt  of 
what  she  would  demand  of  him,  wherefore  he  said,  "  What  is  it  thou  must 
have  in  return  for  that  answer?  " 

Then  the  old  woman  said,  "  If  I  aid  thee  to  guess  thy  riddle  aright,  thou 
must  promise  that  I  shall  become  wife  unto  one  of  the  knights  of  thy 
Court,  whom  I  may  choose  when  thou  returnest  homeward  again." 

"  Ha !  "  said  King  Arthur,  "  how  may  I  promise  that  upon  the  behalf  of 
anyone?"  Upon  this  the  old  woman  said,  "Are  not  the  knights  of  thy 
Court  of  such  nobility  that  they  will  do  that  to  save  thee  from  death?" 
44 1  believe  they  are,"  said  King  Arthur.  And  with  that  he  meditated  a 
long  while,  saying  unto  himself,  <4  What  will  my  kingdom  do  if  I  die  at 
this  time?  I  have  no  right  to  die."  So  he  said  to  the  old  woman,  4<  Very 
well,  I  will  make  that  promise." 

Then  she  said  unto  the  King,  "  This  is  the  answer  to  that 

The  old  "woman       .jit         T,,  ,  .    ,  ,      .  . 

telieth  King  riddle  :  1  hat  which  a  woman  most  desires  is  to  have  her  will." 
^we^th^ddie  And  the  answer  seemed  to  King  Arthur  to  be  altogether  right. 
Then  the  old  woman  said,  <4  My  lord  King,  thou  hast  been 
played  upon  by  that  knight  who  hath  led  thee  into  this  trouble,  for  he  is  a 
great  conjurer  and  a  magician  of  a  very  evil  sort.  He  carrieth  his  life  not 
within  his  body,  but  in  a  crystal  globe  which  he  weareth  in  a  locket  hang- 
ing about  his  neck;  wherefore  it  was  that  when  thou  didst  cut  the  head 
from  off  his  body,  his  life  remained  in  that  locket  and  he  did  not  die. 
But  if  thou  hadst  destroyed  that  locket,  then  he  would  immediately  have 
died." 

44 1  will  mind  me  of  that,"  said  King  Arthur. 

So  King  Arthur  abided  with  that  old  :woman  for  that  night,  and  she 
refreshed  him  with  meat  and  drink  and  served  him  very  well.  And  the 
next  morning  he  set  forth  unto  that  castle  where  he  had  made  his  cove- 
nant,  and  his  heart  was  more  cheerful  than  it  had  been  for  a  whole  year. 


ir  Garoaine  finds  %./• 
beautiful  Lab?  > 


Chapter  Third. 

How  King  Arthur  Overcame  the  Knight-Enchanter,  and  How  Sir 
Gawaine  Manifested  the  High  Nobility  of  His  Knighthood. 

NOW,  when  King  Arthur  came  to  the  castle,  the  gateway  thereof 
was  immediately  opened  to  him  and  he  entered.  And  when 
he  had  entered,  sundry  attendants  came  and  conducted  him  into 
the  hall  where  he  had  aforetime  been.  There  he  beheld  the  knight  of 
that  castle  and  a  great  many  people  who  had  come  to  witness  the  conclu- 
sion of  the  adventure.  And  when  the  knight  beheld  King 
Arthur  he  said  to  him,  "Sir,  hast  thou  come  to  redeem  thy  rehtrnetk t* tkt 
pledge  ?"  "  Yea,"  said  King  Arthur,  "  for  so  I  made  my  vow 
to  thee."  Then  the  knight  of  the  castle  said,  "  Sir,  hast  thou 
guessed  that  riddle  ?  "  And  King  Arthur  said,  "  I  believe  that  I  have." 
The  knight  of  the  castle  said,  "Then  let  me  hear  thy  answer  thereto. 
But  if  thou  makest  any  mistake,  or  if  thou  dost  not  guess  aright,  then  is 
thy  life  forfeit."  "Very  well,"  said  King  Arthur,  ''let  it  be  that  way. 
Now  this  is  the  answer  to  thy  riddle  :  That  which  a  woman  most  desires 
is  to  have  her  will." 

Now  when  the  lord  of  the  castle  heard  King  Arthur  guess  aright  he 
wist  not  what  to  say  or. where  to  look,  and  those  who  were  there  also  per- 
ceived that  the  King  had  guessed  aright. 

/Then  King  Arthur  came  very  close  to  that  knight  with  great  sternness 
of  demeanor,  and  he  said,  "  Now,  thou  traitor  knight!  thou  didst  ask  me 
to  enter  into  thy  sport  with  thee  a  year  ago,  so  at  these  present  it  is  my 
turn  to  ask  thee  to  have  sport  with  me.  And  this  is  the  sport  I  will  have, 
that  thou  shalt  give  me  that  chain  and  locket  that  hang  about  thy  neck, 
and  that  I  shall  give  thee  the  collar  which  hangeth  about  my  neck." 

At  this,  the  face  of  that  knight  fell  all  pale,  like  to  ashes,  and  he  emitted 
a  sound  similar  to  the  sound  made  by  a  hare  when  the  hound  lays  hoi 
upon  it.     Then  King  Arthur  catched  him  very  violently  by  the  arm,  an 
he  catched  the  locket  and  brake  it  away  from  about  the  knight's  neck,  and 


3o6  THE   STORY  OF  SIR    GAWAINE 

upon  that  the  knight  shrieked  very  loud,  and  fell  down  upon  his  knees  and 
besought  mercy  of  the  King,  and  there  was  great  uproar  in  that  place. 
Then  King  Arthur  opened  the  locket  and  lo  !  there  was  a  ball 
as  of  crystal,  very  clear  and  shining.  And  King  Arthur  said, 


knight  of  «i  wiii  have  no  mercy,"  and  therewith  he  flung  the  ball  vio- 
lently down  upon  the  stone  of  the  pavement  so  that  it  brake 
with  a  loud  noise.  Then,  upon  that  instant,  the  knight-conjurer  gave  a 
piercing  bitter  cry  and  fell  down  upon  the  ground  ;  and  when  they  ran  to 
raise  him  up,  behold  !  he  was  entirely  dead.  / 

Now  when  the  people  of  that  castle  beheld  their  knight  thus  suddenly 
dead,  and  when  they  beheld  King  Arthur  how  he  stood  in  the  fury  of  his 
kingly  majesty,  they  were  greatly  afeared  so  that  they  shrunk  away  from 
the  King  where  he  stood.  Then  the  King  turned  and  went  out  from  that 
castle  and  no  one  stayed  him,  and  he  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  away, 
and  no  one  gave  him  let  or  hindrance  in  his  going. 

Now  when  the  King  had  left  the  castle  in  that  wise,  he  went  straight  to 
the  hut  where  was  the  old  beldame  and  he  said  to  her,  "  Thou  hast  holpen 
me  a  very  great  deal  in  mine  hour  of  need,  so  now  will  I  fulfil  that  pledge 
which  I  made  unto  thee,  for  I  will  take  thee  unto  my  Court  and  thou  shalt 
choose  one  of  my  knights  for  thy  husband.  For  I  think  there  is  not  one 
knight  in  all  my  Court  but  would  be  very  glad  to  do  anything  that  lieth  in 
his  power  to  reward  one  who  hath  saved  me  as  thou  hast  done  this  day." 

Therewith  he  took  that  old  woman  and  he  lifted  her  up  upon  the  crup- 

per of  his  horse  ;   then  he  himself  mounted  upon  his  horse,  and  so  they 

rode  away  from  that  place.     And  the  King  comported  himself 

takegth  the  old      to  that  aged  beldame  in  all  ways  with  the  utmost  considera- 

womanaway      tjon  as  though  she  had  been  a  beautiful  dame  of  the  highest 

with  him.  6 

degree  in  the  land.  Likewise  he  showed  her  such  respect 
that  had  she  been  a  lady  of  royal  blood,  he  could  not  have  shown  greater 
respect  to  her. 

So  in  due  time  they  reached  the  Court,  which  was  then  at  Carleon.  And 
they  came  there  nigh  about  mid-day. 

Now  about  that  time  it  chanced  that  the  Queen  and  a  number  of  the 
lords  of  the  Court,  and  a  number  of  the  ladies  of  the  Court,  were  out  in 
the  fields  enjoying  the  pleasantness  of  the  Maytime  ;  for  no  one  in  all  the 
world,  excepting  the  esquire,  Boisenard,  knew  anything  of  the  danger  that 
beset  King  Arthur  ;  hence  all  were  very  glad  of  the  pleasantness  of  the 
season.  Now  as  King  Arthur  drew  nigh  to  that  place,  these  lifted  up  their 
eyes  and  beheld  him  come,  and  they  were  astonished  beyond  all  measure 
to  see  King  Arthur  come  to  them  across  that  field  with  that  old  beldame 


KING  ARTHUR  BRINGS   THE   OLD    WOMAN  TO    COURT     307 

behind  him  upon  the  saddle,  wherefore  they  stood  still  to  wait  until  King 
Arthur  reached  them. 

But  when  King  Arthur  had  come  to  them,  he  did  not  dismount  from  his 
horse,  but  sat  thereon  and  regarded  them  all  very  steadfastly ;  and  Queen 
Guinevere. said,  "  Sir,  what  is  this?  Hast  thou  a  mind  to  play  some  merry 
jest  this  day  that  thou  hast  brought  hither  that  old  woman?" 

"  Lady,"  said  King  Arthur,  "  excepting  for  this  old  woman  it  were  like 
to  have  been  a  very  sorry  jest  for  thee  and  for  me ;  for  had  she  not  aided 
me  I  would  now  have  been  a  dead  man  and  in  a  few  days  you  would 
doubtless  all  have  been  in  great  passion  of  sorrow." 

Then  all  they  who  were  there  marvelled  very  greatly  at  the  King's 
words.  And  the  Queen  said,  "  Sir,  what  is  it  that  hath  befallen  thee?" 

Thereupon  King  Arthur  told  them  all  that  had  happened  to  him  from 
the  very  beginning  when  he  and  Boisenard  had  left  the  castle  of  Tin- 
tagalon.  And  when  he  had  ended  his  story,  they  were  greatly  amazed. 

Now  there  were  seventeen  lords  of  the  Court  there  present.  So  when 
King  Arthur  had  ended  his  story,  he  said  unto  these,  "  Messires,  I  have 
given  my  pledge  unto  this  aged  woman  that  any  one  of  you  whom  she 
may  choose,  shall  take  her  unto  him  as  his  wife,  and  shall  treat  her  with  all 
the  regard  that  it  is  possible  for  him  to  do ;  for  this  was  the  condition  that 
she  laid  upon  me.  Now  tell  me,  did  I  do  right  in  making  unto  her  my 
pledge  that  I  would  fulfil  that  which  she  desired  ?  "  And  all  of  those  who 
were  present  said,  "  Yea,  lord,  thou  didst  right,  for  we  would  do  all  in  the 
world  for  to  save  thee  from  such  peril  as  that  from  which  thou  hast  es- 
caped." 

Then  King  Arthur  said  to  that  old  woman,  "  Lady,  is  there  any  of  these 
knights  here  whom  you  would  choose  for  to  be  your  husband  ? "     Upon 
this,  the  old  woman  pointed  with  her  very  long,  bony  finger   Theoldwoman 
unto  Sir  Gawaine,  saying,  "  Yea,  I  would  marry  that  lord,  for   cho°s^waine 
I  see  by  the  chain  that  is  around  his  neck  and  by  the  golden 
circlet  upon  his  hair  and  by  the  haughty  nobility  of  his  aspect,  that  he 
must  be  the  son  of  a  king." 

Then  King  Arthur  said  unto  Sir  Gawaine,  "  Sir,  art  thou  willing  to 
fulfil  my  pledge  unto  this  old  woman?"  And  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "Yea, 
lord,  whatsoever  thou  requirest  of  me,  that  will  I  do."  So  Sir  Gawaine 
came  to  the  old  woman  and  took  her  hand  into  his  and  set  it  to  his  lips; 
and  not  one  of  all  those  present  so  much  as  smiled.]  Then  they  all  turned 
their  faces  and  returned  unto  the  King's  castle ;  and  they  were  very  silent 
and  downcast,  for  this  was  sore  trouble  that  had  come  upon  that  Court. 

Now  after  they  had  returned  unto  the  Court,  they  assigned  certain 


3o8  THE   STORY  OF  SIR    GAWAINE 

apartments  therein  to  that  old  woman,  and  they  clad  her  in  rich  raiment 
such  as  a  queen  might  wear,  and  they  assigned  unto  her  a  Court  such  as 
was  fit  for  a  queen ;  and  it  seemed  to  all  the  Court  that,  in  the 
rich  robes  which  she  wore,  she  was  ten  times  more  ugly  than 
old  woman  she  was  before.  So  when  eleven  days  had  passed,  Sir  Ga- 
waine  was  wedded  to  that  old  woman  in  the  chapel  of  the 
King's  Court  with  great  ceremony  and  pomp  of  circumstance,  and  all  of 
those  who  were  there  were  as  sad  and  as  sorrowful  as  though  Sir  Gawaine 
had  been  called  upon  to  suffer  his  death. 

Afterward  that  they  were  married,  Sir  Gawaine  and  the  old  woman 
went  to  Sir  Gawaine's  house  and  there  Sir  Gawaine  shut  himself  off  from 
all  the  world  and  suffered  no  one  to  come  nigh  him ;  for  he  was  proud  be- 
yond all  measure,  and  in  this  great  humiliation  he  suffered  in  such  a  wise 
that  words  cannot  tell  how  great  was  that  humiliation.  Wherefore  he 
shut  himself  away  from  the  world  that  no  one  might  behold  his  grief  and 
his  shame. 

And  all  the  rest  of  that  day  he  walked  continually  up  and  down  his 
chamber,  for  he  was  altogether  in  such  despair  that  it  came  unto  his  mind 
Sir  Gawaine  is  tnat  ^  would  be  well  if  he  took  his  own  life ;  for  it  seemed  to 
in  great  sorrow,  him  impossible  for  to  suffer  such  shame  as  that  which  had  come 
upon  him.  !  So  after  a  while  it  fell  the  dark  of  the  early  night  and  there- 
with a  certain  strength  came  to  Sir  Gawaine  and  he  said,  "This  is  a  shame 
for  me  for  to  behave  in  this  way ;  for  since  I  have  married  that  lady  she 
is  my  true  wedded  wife  and  I  do  not  treat  her  with  that  regard  unto  which 
she  hath  the  right."  So  he  went  out  of  that  place  and  sought  the  apart- 
ment of  that  old  woman  who  was  his  wife,  and  by  that  time  it  was  alto- 
gether darkj  But  when  Sir  Gawaine  had  come  into  that  place  where  she 
was,  that  ola  woman  upbraided  him,  crying  out  upon  him,  "  So,  Sir !  You 
have  treated  me  but  ill  upon  this  our  wedding-day,  for  you  have  stayed  all 
the  afternoon  away  from  me  and  now  only  come  to  me  when  it  is  dark 
night."  And  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "Lady,  I  could  not  help  it,  for  I  was  very 
sore  oppressed  with  many  cares.  But  if  I  have  disregarded  thee  this  day,  I 
do  beseech  thy  forgiveness  therefore,  and  I  will  hold  myself  willing  to  do  all 
that  is  in  my  power  to  recompense  thee  for  any  neglect  that  I  have  placed 
upon  thee."  Then  the  lady  said,  "  Sir,  it  is  very  dark  in  this  place;  let  us 
then  have  a  light."  "  It  shall  be  as  thou  dost  desire,"  said  Sir  Gawaine, 
"and  I,  myself,  will  go  and  fetch  a  light  for  thee." 

So  Sir  Gawaine  went  forth  from  that  place  and  he  brought  two  waxen 
tapers,  one  in  either  hand,  and  he  bore  them  in  candlesticks  of  gold ;  for 
he  was  minded  to  show  all  respect  unto  that  old  woman,  j  And  when  he 


SIK    GAWAINE  AND    THE   BEAUTIFUL   LADY  309 

came  into  the  room  he  perceived  that  she  was  at  the  farther  end  of  the 
apartment  and  he  went  toward  her,  and  she  arose  and  stood  before  him  as 
he^approached. 

[But  when  the  circle  of  light  fell  upon  that  old  woman,  and  when  Sir 
Gawaine  beheld  her  who  stood  before  him,  he  cried  out  aloud  in  a  very 
great  voice  because  of  the  great  marvel  and  wonder  of  that 
which  he  saw.     For,  instead  of  that  old  woman  whom  he  had  %?$?$$£. 
left,  he  beheld  a  lady  of  extraordinary  beauty  and  in  the  very eth  f°  sir  Ga- 
flower  of  her  youth.     And  he  beheld  that  her  hair  was  long  and  ™ 
glossy  and  very  black,  and  that  her  eyes  were  likewise  black  like  to  black 
jewels,  and  that  her  lips  were  like  coral,  and  her  teeth  were  like  pearls. 
So,  for  a  while,  Sir  Gawaine   could  not  speak,  and  then  he  cried  out, 
"  Lady  !  lady  !  who  art  thou  ?  "  ' 

Then  that  lady  smiled  upon"  Sir  Gawaine  with  such  loving-kindness 
that  he  wist  not  what  to  think,  other  than  that  this  was  an  angel  who  had 
descended  to  that  place  out  of  paradise.  Wherefore  he  stood  before  her 
for  a  long  time  and  could  find  no  more  words  to  say,  and  she  continued  to 
smile  upon  him  very  kindly  in  that  wise.  Then  by  and  by  Sir  Gawaine 
said  to  her,  "  Lady,  where  is  that  dame  who  is  my  wife  ?  "  I  And  the  lady 
said,  "  Sir  Gawaine,  I  am  she."  "  It  is  not  possible,"  criecTbut  Sir  Ga- 
waine, "  for  she  was  old  and  extraordinarily  ugly,  but  I  believe  that  thou 
art  beautiful  beyond  any  lady  whom  I  have  beheld."  And  the  lady  said, 
"  Nevertheless,  I  am  she  and  because  thou  hast  taken  me  for  thy  wife  with 
thine  own  free  will  and  with  great  courtesy,  so  is  a  part  of  that  enchantment 
that  lay  upon  me  removed  from  me.  For  I  will  now  be  able  to  appear 
before  thee  in  mine  own  true  shape.  For  whiles  I  was  a  little  while  ago 
so  ugly  and  foul  as  thou  didst  behold  me  to  be,  now  am  I  to  be  as  thou 
seest  me,  for  one-half  the  day— and  the  other  half  thereof  I  must  be  ugly  as 
I  was  before."  — i 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  was  filled  beyond  all  words  with  great  joy./  And 
with  that  joy  there  came  an  extreme  passion  of  loving  regard  for  that  lady. 
So  he  cried  out  aloud  several  times,  "  This  is  surely  the  most  wonderful 
thing  that  ever  befell  any  man  in  all  the  world."  Therewith  he  fell  down 
upon  his  knees  and  took  that  lady's  hands  into  hir  own  hands,  and  kissed 
her  hands  with  great  fervor,  and  all  the  while  she  smiled  upon  him  as  she 
had  done  at  first. 

Then  again  the  lady  said,  «  Come,  sit  thee  down  beside  me  and 
consider  what  part  of  the  day  I  shall  be  in  the  one  guise,  and  what  part 
the  day  I  shall  be  in  the  other  guise;  for  all  day  I  may ^ have  the  one 
appearance,  and  all  night  I  may  have  the  other  appearance. 


3io  THE  STORY  OF  SIR   GAWAINE 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  I  would  have  thee  in  this  guise  during  the 
night  time,  for  then  we  are  together  at  our  own  inn ;  and  since  thou  art  of 
this  sort  that  I  now  see  thee,  I  do  not  at  all  reckon  how  the  world  may 
regard  thee." 

Upon  this  the  lady  spake  with  great  animation,  saying,  "  No,  sir,  I  would 
not  have  it  in  that  wise,  for  every  woman  loveth  the  regard  of  the  world, 
and  I  would  fain  enjoy  such  beauty  as  is  mine  before  the  world,  and  not 
endure  the  scorn  and  contempt  of  men  and  women." 

To  this  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  Lady,  I  would  have  it  the  other  way." 

And  she  said,  "  Nay,  I  would  have  it  my  way." 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  So  be  it.     For  since  I  have  taken 

Sir  Gawaine  . 

giveth  the  lady    thee  for  my  wife,  so  must  I  show  thee  respect  in  all  mat- 
her -will.  ters.  wherefore  thou  shalt  have  thy  will  in  this  and  in  all 

other  things." 

Then  that  lady  fell  a-laughing  beyond  all  measure  and  she  said,  "  Sir, 
I  did  but  put  this  as  a  last  trial  upon  thee,  for  as  I  am  now,  so  shall  I 
always  be." 

Upon  this  Sir  .Gawaine  was  so  filled  with  joy  that  he  knew  not  how  to 
contain  himself.  ( 

So  they  sat  together  for  a  long  time,  hand  in  hand.  Then  after  a  while 
Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  Lady,  who  art  thou?"  Unto  which  she  made  reply, 
"  I  am  one  of  the  Ladies  of  the  Lake ;  but  for  thy  sake  I  have  become 
mortal  like  to  other  women  and  have  quit  that  very  beautiful  home  where 
I  one  time  dwelt.  I  have  kept  thee  in  my  heart  for  a  considerable  while, 
for  1  was  not  very  far  distant  at  that  time  when  thou  didst  bid  adieu  to 
Sir  Pellias  beside  the  lake.  There  I  beheld  how  thou  didst  weep  and 
bewail  thyself  when  Sir  Pellias  left  thee,  wherefore  my  heart  went  out  to 
thee  with  great  pity.  So,  after  a  while,  I  quitted  that  lake  and  became 
mortal  for  thy  sake.  Now,  when  I  found  the  trouble  into  which  King 
Arthur  had  fallen  1  took  that  occasion  to  have  him  fetch  me  unto  thee  so 
that  I  might  test  the  entire  nobility  of  thy  knighthood  ;  and,  lo  !  I  have 
found  it  all  that  I  deemed  it  possible  to  be.  For  though  I  appeared  to 
thee  so  aged,  so  ugly,  and  so  foul,  yet  hast  thou  treated  me  with  such 
kind  regard  that  I  do  not  believe  that  thou  couldst  have  behaved  with, 
more  courtesy  to  me  had  I  been  the  daughter  of  a  king.  Wherefore  it 
doth  now  afford  me  such  pleasure  for  to  possess  thee  for  my  knight  and  my 
true  lord,  that  I  cannot  very  well  tell  thee  how  great  is  my  joy  therein." 

Then  Sir  Gawaine  said,  "  Lady,  I  do  not  think  it  can  be  so  great  as  my 
joy  in  possessing  thee."  And  thereupon  he  came  to  her  and  laid  his  hand 
upon  her  shoulder  and  kissed  her  upon  the  lips. 


SIGNIFICANCE    OF  THE   STORY  OF  SIR    GAWAINE          31 1 

Then,  after  that,  he  went  forth  and  called  with  a  great  voice  all  through 
that  house,  and  the  people  of  the  house  came  running  from  everywhere. 
And  he  commanded  that  the  people  should  bring  lights  and  refreshments, 
and  they  brought  the  lights,  and  when  they  had  brought  them  and  beheld 
that  beautiful  lady  instead  of  the  aged  dame,  they  were  filled  with  great 
wonder  and  joy ;  wherefore  they  cried  out  aloud  and  clapped 
their  hands  together  and  made  much  sound  of  rejoicing.  And  1%  %**?'** 
they  set  a  great  feast  for  Sir  Gawaine  and  his  lady,  and  in  sreat  reJ°icins- 
place  of  the  sorrow  and  darkness  that  had  been,  there  was  joy  and  light, 
and  music  and  singing ;  wherefore  those  of  the  King's  Court,  beholding 
this  from  a  distance,  said,  "  It  is  very  strange  that  Sir  Gawaine  should 
have  taken  so  much  joy  of  having  wedded  that  old  beldame." 

But  when  the  next  morning  had  come,  that  lady  clad  herself  in  raiment 
of  yellow  silk,  and  she  hung  about  her  many  strands  of  precious  stones 
of  several  colors,  and  she  set  a  golden  crown  upon  her  head.  And  Sir 
Gawaine  let  call  his  horse,  and  he  let  call  a  snow-white  palfrey  for  the 
lady,  and  thereupon  they  rode  out  from  that  place  and  entered  the  Court 
of  the  King.  But  when  the  King  and  the  Queen  and  their  several  Courts 
beheld  that  lady,  they  were  filled  with  such  great  astonishment  that  they 
wist  not  what  to  say  for  pure  wonder.  And  when  they  heard  all  that  had 
happened,  they  gave  great  joy  and  loud  acclaim  so  that  all  their  mourn- 
ing was  changed  into  rejoicing.  And,  indeed,  there  was  not  one  knight 
there  of  all  that  Court  who  would  not  have  given  half  his  life  to  have 
been  so  fortunate  in  that  matter  as  was  Sir  Gawaine,  the  son  of  King  Lot 
of  Orkney. 

LSuch  is  the  story  of  Sir  Gawaine,  and  from  it  I  draw  this  significance: 
as  that  poor  ugly  beldame  appeared  unto  the  eyes  of  Sir  Gawaine,  so 
doth  a  man's  duty  sometimes  appear  to  him  to  be  ugly  and  exceedingly 
ill-favored  unto  his  desires.  But  when  he  shall  have  wedded  himself  unto 
that  duty  so  that  he  hath  made  it  one  with  him  as  a  bridegroom  maketh 
himself  one  with  his  bride,  then  doth  that  duty  become  of  a  sudden  very 
beautiful  unto  him  and  unto  others.  / 

So  may  it  be  with  ye  that  you  shall  take  duty  unto  yourselves  no  mat- 
ter how  much  it  may  mislike  ye  to  do  so.  For  indeed  a  man  shall  hardly 
have  any  real  pleasure  in  his  life  unless  his  inclination  becometh  wedded 
unto  his  duty  and  cleaveth  unto  it  as  a  husband  cleaveth  unto  his  wife. 
For  when  inclination  is  thus  wedded  unto  duty,  then  doth  the  soul  take 
great  joy  unto  itself  as  though  a  wedding  had  taken  place  betwixt  a 
'bridegroom  and  a  bride  within  its  tabernacle. 


3I2 


THE   STORY  OF  SIR    GAWAINE 


Likewise,  when  you  shall  have  become  entirely  wedded  unto  your  duty, 
then  shall  you  become  equally  worthy  with  that  good  knight  and  gentle- 
man  Sir  Gawaine ;  for  it  needs  not  that  a  man  shall  wear  armor  for  to  be 
a  true  knight,  but  only  that  he  shall  do  his  best  endeavor  with  all  patience 
and  humility  as  it  hath  been  ordained  for  him  to  do.  Wherefore,  when 
your  time  cometh  unto  you  to  display  your  knightness  by  assuming  your 
duty,  I  do  pray  that  you  also  may  approve  yourself  as  worthy  as  Sir  Ga- 
waine approved  himself  in  this  story  which  I  have  told  you  of  as  above 
written. 

x — -4 


CONCLUSION 

So  endeth  this  volume  wherein  hath  been  told,  with  every  circumstance  of 
narration,  the  history  of  those  Three  Worthies  who  were  of  the  Court  of  King 
Arthur. 

And  now,  if  God  will  give  me  the  grace  to  do  so,  I  will  some  time,  at  no  very 
great  time  from  this,  write  the  further  history  of  sundry  other  knights  and 
worthies  of  whom  I  have  not  yet  spoken. 

And  among  the  first  of  these  shall  be  Sir  Launcelot,  whom  all  the  world 
knoweth  to  have  been  the  greatest  knight  in  prowess  of  arms  of  any  who  has 
lived,  excepting  Sir  Galahad,  who  was  his  son.  And  I  shall  tell  you  the  story 
of  Sir  Ewaine  and  Sir  Geraint,  and  of  Sir  Percival  and  of  sundry  others. 

But  of  this  another  time.  For  now,  with  great  regret  I  bid  you  adieu  and 
bring  this  history  unto  a  close. 

So  may  God  grant  us  to  come  together  at  another  time  with  such  happiness 
and  prosperity  that  you  may  have  a  free  and  untroubled  heart  to  enjoy  the  nar- 
rated  history  of  those  excellent  men  which  I  shall  then  set  before  you.  Amen. 


12   5100- 


* 


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FORM  NO.  DD10 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  BERKELEY 
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